Today Is All We Have
by dreamer one
Summary: After dancing around his feelings for years, Jack O’Neill realizes he doesn't have a limitless supply of days. SJ, post season 10.
1. Chapter 1 Is This All There Is?

Summary: After dancing around his feelings for years, Jack O'Neill realizes he does not have a limitless supply of days. SJ, post season 10.

TODAY IS ALL WE HAVE

Chapter 1: Is This All There Is?

Major General Jack O'Neill was tired and frustrated. He'd suffered through one of those miserably stultifying days at the Pentagon, the kind that made him wish he were back in Ba'al's torture chamber. Listening to all manner of political hacks and lying sycophants intent on convincing him to change policy in ways that would benefit their special interest lobbies, well, that was a special kind of torture for a man like Jack O'Neill. There had to be something more worthy of his attention and talents than this.

Eager to leave the confines of today's imprisonment, he made his way to the elevator and happily heard the chirp that signaled the closing of the doors and the final leg of his jailbreak. Five minutes later, his necktie tossed carelessly on the passenger seat along with his dress jacket, one of the most powerful men in the nation's capital closed his eyes tightly and exhaled. With bitter relief, he drove his late model Jeep to freedom, clearing the last checkpoint of the underground, highly guarded parking garage.

Though it was the dead of winter in Washington, D.C., the air in the Pentagon had been hot and oppressive. It was always hot and oppressive. The more stuffed shirts spewing hot air in his office on a particular day, the worse it got. So tonight, as he made his escape, the impatient, irritated, royally frustrated Head of Homeworld Security rolled down the windows, welcoming the blast of refreshing thirty-five degree air that bit at his skin. If it hadn't been for the icy mix of rain and sleet that had begun to fall, he'd have thown caution to the wind and rolled back the canvas top of the Jeep altogether.

As it was, Jack was in flat out rebellion against the supposed perks of his plum assignment. He'd ditched his driver over two weeks ago, sick to death of the man's fawning curiosity and yearning for the privacy of a solitary drive home under his own steam. Dwayne, David, Derrick, some name that began with a D., the airman treated him like an old man, someone to be fawned and fussed over. Jack O'Neill, a man who'd stolen victory from the mouth of defeat against Goa'uld and Replicator alike, would not be treated like a fragile old man, no matter how many "Yes, Sirs" were involved.

Maybe it was a mid-life crisis. Good old Daniel! When Jack first confided his growing dissatisfaction with the now hated desk job the Doctor of Archeologist had offered his diagnosis. Mid-life crisis indeed! Jack was sure it was too late for that, he was nearing fifty-five after all, but any excuse for his ennui, hell, his depression, would do right about now.

Sure enough, here he was embarking on the nearly one hour commute he looked forward to most every day. At least he usually missed rush hour. By the time he'd liberated himself these days, it was a fairly simple task to navigate his way through the tangle of Washington expressways to the narrow winding roads that would take him to his home in the hills southeast of the city. Nine times out of ten, he'd spend most of the drive reminiscing about happier times, times when he'd felt more alive, more needed, part of something that truly mattered to him. SG1, the SGC, his team, his friends … Sam, it always came back to Sam.

Stopped at a street light that dared to delay him a few more moments, Jack flipped down the visor to catch sight of the tiny two by three inch snapshot he'd fixed to the flap. The same day he'd traded in the stuffy, government issue, Town Car for the sporty all terrain Jeep, he'd made sure his favorite memory was there to keep him company. Much better than Derrick or Donovan, whatever his name was, was that precious shot of himself with Sam at the cabin, nearly two years ago now. _Two years, two years too long_, he thought.

Something should have changed on that trip. But it hadn't. Maybe if he hadn't brought the guys with them. If it had been just him and Sam, then maybe it would have happened. But that wasn't fair. Sam had been so vulnerable then; first she'd lost her father, then Pete. He couldn't tell her how he really felt that week. It wasn't fair. He wanted her to come to him from her strength, not from sadness and grief. He'd told himself he'd have all the time in the world, yes they'd have all the time in the world. But as usual, the world had other plans.

First there was Cassie, then the Ori and finally, the promotion and Atlantis. He'd been so proud 6 months ago when Sam was promoted to a full bird Colonel. He'd been front and center for the ceremony and had all he could do to avoid sweeping her into his arms and kissing her. But once again he remembered, she wasn't his and at the rate they were going probably never would be. So he shook her hand and congratulated her as the consummate professional soldier she was.

He was genuinely happy for Sam. And she was happy, he could tell. She was positively glowing as the promotion was announced. He could have sworn she was smiling directly at him all through the ceremony. Wishful thinking, but he could dream.

And now that's exactly what he had left, he thought morosely. Dreams, dreams of what might have been had the time ever been exactly right. Yes, he could dream. There were no laws, no regulations against that, right? Glancing at the picture from the cabin, he remembered a larger one just like it hidden in his desk at the office. Hey, it wouldn't do for curious eyes to see it; he'd slip it out when he was really missing her. And at home, yes, on the mantle, his Sam.

His Sam? Not exactly. "His Sam" was literally light years away right now. The Pegasus Galaxy to be exact. Everything was harder, she was so far away. While she was on Earth, he could call her for any and all mindless reasons, claiming the need to review a crucial report. Now, well he couldn't very well open the Stargate every time he wanted to hear her voice. It simply wouldn't do.

As the drive wore on and his train of thought continued down familiar, seemingly hopeless pathways, Jack wondered briefly if Derrick would have been a good drive time distraction after all. No, that was a bad idea. If nothing else, Jack had learned distractions were pretty useless when it came to Samantha Carter. He wondered if she ever thought of him. Little did he know that she kept the exact same cabin picture lovingly displayed for all to see in her office, far, far away.

His reverie was rudely interrupted by the hollow sound of frozen water impacting the canvas roof of the Jeep. _Hail, oh great_, he thought, _and just as I'm hitting the hills. _Jack's secretary was always nagging him to take a different way home, insisting his trip through the narrow winding roads of the foothills was treacherous, especially in the winter. If anything happened, she would never let him hear the end of it.

_Oh well, we've done this before_, he thought, handily engaging the four wheel drive as the roads rapidly iced up beneath him. There wasn't much traffic this time of night. Just a few more miles and he'd be home. Alone, but home.

Maybe he'd have to do something about this situation after all. He could say something to Sam. The worst she could do was say she wasn't interested. Right? No, again that wouldn't be fair to her. Her first command as a full bird Colonel, and he wanted to burden her with his need for a relationship? No, wasn't going to happen. Not now, maybe not ever.

Thinking he'd tortured himself enough for one night Jack switched on the radio, grateful for the distracting voice of a foolish radio shock jock to guide him the rest of the way home. He was tired and the roads were not in good shape. He wondered where the salt trucks were. Oh yeah, he remembered, this was D.C, not Colorado Springs. Most things just stopped in this neck of the woods when bad weather arrived.

Headlights approached from the other side of the road. The approaching vehicle was moving slowly, still distant from his position. A night for careful drivers, he supposed, especially on these roads. After all, the guardrails up here were little more than reminders of the plunge a careless driver was likely to take into the valley below. So be it, a few extra minutes, what could it hurt.

Then the approaching car was upon him. The driver was clearly struggling to keep the car on the road. By the time the oncoming vehicle reached Jack's location, it had begun to fishtail. Jack was unable to avoid it. Even the vaunted four wheel drive wouldn't hold the road this time. Swerving to avoid the oncoming vehicle and unable to control the Jeep, the force of his forward momentum catapulted him over the guardrail and into the ravine below.

His last conscious thought was of Sam.

And, in a galaxy light years away, the Commander of Atlantis station breathed his name.

TBC

A/N: Well since they're still not together on the series, thought I'd send the powers that be yet another idea. What do you think of Chapter One? Should I continue?

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2 No One Promised Tomorrow

_His last conscious thought was of Sam._

* * *

CHAPTER 2: NO ONE PROMISED TOMORROW

"_Jack"_ ….

His name was no more than a whisper, a cherished thought pulled without bidding from her lips. For the life of her, Sam didn't know what had drawn her thoughts to him right now, in the middle of a strategy session with her top advisors. She did know that ever since leaving for Atlantis, she'd felt an almost spiritual connection to her former commanding officer. Strange, since every other form of connection seemed to have fallen by the wayside.

Where Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter had drifted apart in every way a casual observer would notice over the past few months, in other ways, they'd taken up permanent residence in each other's hearts and minds. Maybe it was because she missed the familiarity of her old friends, especially now, in a demanding job among strangers who were still untested and wary. Whatever the reason, Colonel Samantha Carter, commander of Atlantis station, knew something was wrong with her friend, with Jack. But what could she do to help?

"Colonel Carter, did you hear what I suggested," John Shepherd asked, wondering what had hijacked his commanding officer's attention.

"What?" Sam asked, momentarily startled from her sudden connection to her old friend. "Yes, of course Colonel Shepherd, the vaccine. If medical believes it's a good risk, then by all means, give it a go. But bear in mind, the military option is still on the table. Dismissed."

In the six months since Sam arrived in Atlantis, she'd faced one crisis after another. Between the Iratus bugs and the Replicators, she'd been tempted on more than one occasion to simply call a high priced exterminator and be done with it. _If only it was that easy,_ she thought, grateful for the odd sense of humor she seemed to have absorbed from her former CO.

Sam found life as Commander of Atlantis station challenging, both personally and professionally. Though she was the ranking officer and default leader of the effort to save the legendary city, her appointment was less than popular among the citizens of that extraordinary outpost. Elizabeth Weir had become a bona fide hero and had earned the respect of most everyone, both military officers and civilians assigned to the base. The fact that her recent injuries necessitated a change in command structure did little to assuage the snub many felt to John Shepherd when he was passed up for the job.

Sam had been barraged by negative feelings just beneath the surface from the moment she set foot on Atlantis. It went without saying that her extraordinary performance during the past six months had gone a long way towards establishing her position, and yet, she was lonely. When the rare quiet, peace filled moment arrived, she knew the loneliness that clawed at her heart. It was the loneliness she'd run from for years, the loneliness that had only one remedy, an answer she couldn't allow herself to consider given their respective ranks and military protocol. Or so she'd said, so they'd always said.

And now, somehow, she knew he needed her.

OoOoOo

"_Dad… Dad, wake up!" the urgent voice called._

"_Hmm… What?" Jack moaned, trying unsuccessfully to clear his foggy brain._

"_Dad you have to wake up, now," the strong youthful voice persisted._

"_No, I don't. I'm tired," Jack protested with a whine. "Leave me alone."_

"_Sorry Dad, no can do," the voice persisted. "You've got to get moving now."_

"_Charlie?" Jack questioned, certain there was no one else at this point in his life who'd be calling him Dad._

"_Who else? Charlie answered with the indulgence of youth. "Of course it's me, Dad. Don't just lay there, get a move on."_

"_How ya been, Charlie?" Jack asked, smiling a crooked grin as he took in the vaguely familiar figure before him. Gone was his nine year old boy, the ever present image of the precious son he'd lost so long ago. In his place stood the representation of the young man Charles O'Neill would have become had he lived. And the figure was impressive. _

_Charlie, the child of ongoing dreams with sandy hair and tall, lanky good looks, smiled gently at his bedraggled father. "You know I'm not with you anymore Dad. But you're in trouble. That's why I'm here."_

"_So am I dead, son?" Jack asked, recognizing his own tiredness. He was ready; it had been too much, maybe it was time. It was after all, a bad accident. _

"_That's a good question, Dad," the Charlie figure responded cryptically. "I suppose that's up to you in a way. Are you dead, Dad?"_

_Daniel, Oma, Lya and the other strange little Nox people, his son was channeling all these annoyingly philosophical creatures! Surely there was no justice in the world. No son of his would ever talk like this. _

"_What the heck does that mean, Charlie?" Jack asked with impatience._

"_It means you're at a decision point, Dad. Do you want to live or are you ready to die. Your choice. I'm here because I want you to make the right one," the young man said with the intensity of youth. _

_Jack was silent for what seemed forever. Should be an easy choice, right? Life or death? Life or the end of everything he knew. But there was Charlie. Charlie would be there with him, wouldn't he? He was so tired after all. What did he really have to look forward to at his age? Without the stars, without the military, what was he, really?_

"_Maybe I'll stay here with you son," Jack ventured in a timid voice that surprised even him._

"_No, Dad. It's not time, I can't let you do that," Charlie replied._

"_Why not, Charlie? Why can't I just stay with my son? It's been so long."_

"_He needs you, Dad, that's why."_

"_Who needs me, son? Last I checked I was pretty much alone out here."_

"_Little Charlie needs you, that's who. Now get up and open your eyes."_

Then Jack O'Neill saw the other car.

TBC

A/N: To say my muse and I were encouraged by all the reviews is an understatement! So glad to know you are interested in where this little tale is going. Hope to have a third chapter up within the week. I'm writing as I go along, so depending on inspiration, it could be awhile. But I do have some ideas I hope you'll like.

Please continue to let me hear your comments, suggestions, concerns about the direction of the story. Thanks again to all readers and reviewers.


	3. Chapter 3 An Unexpected Companion

_Then Jack O'Neill saw the other car_.

AN UNEXPECTED COMPANION

Badly battered, Jack struggled to open his eyes. He couldn't see very well at first. There was something wet and sticky on his face, dripping into his eyes. Trying to rub it away he found it was blood, most likely his own. Sure enough, his head hurt and there seemed to be a good size laceration just above his still intact eyebrow.

Jack took a quick inventory and knew immediately his right leg was broken. It didn't take a genius to figure that out. And there was no Carter to apply a splint. He wasn't sure whether that was a blessing or a curse.

He'd been talking to Charlie, hadn't he? Even in his current less than all together state, Jack O'Neill knew his son was long dead and had never grown to be the young man he'd just been conversing with in his mind. Still, whenever he was in a near death situation, that seemed to be what happened, he'd have these odd little conversations with Charlie. It must have been bad.

_Oh, it hurt_, every part of his body hurt. Oh, yeah, he'd lost control of the car. He remembered going over the edge, but must have blacked out halfway down. He wondered how long he'd been out, how long he'd been talking to Charlie.

Fortunately there was a full moon. That light was a godsend, filtering through the rain and sleet and providing some illumination to an otherwise dark, difficult to fathom terrain. But there was a light in addition to the moonlight. Oh yeah… great … flames. Looked like they were dying down, at least that was good.

He could smell the acrid odor of burning rubber. Where? His car, where else? Looks like his car had burst into flames probably shortly after the accident. And he liked that Jeep too. So much for wearing seat belts; if he'd been strapped in, Jack figured he'd be a goner right about now.

Then Jack O'Neill saw the other car.

Not more than a hundred feet from the smoldering remains of his Jeep lay the vehicle he'd seen right before he'd gone off the road. Though it was hard to tell in the dark, his view obscured by the icy rain, it looked to be a mid-sized sedan. It was resting right side up, but he doubted it had stayed that way on the plunge down the steep embankment. As he looked and listened, Jack could hear an insistent high pitched sound coming from the wreck. He had to get to that car.

As luck would have it Jack had been thrown several feet from his own vehicle, making it a significant distance to the second vehicle. Very significant for a man with a badly broken leg and other injuries he hadn't stopped to think about. But someone was still in that car, probably in worse shape than he was. He had to get there. Whoever it was needed his help.

Without thinking, Jack grabbed hold of the closest tree and tried to pull himself to a standing position. That was a big mistake and it hurt. Did it ever hurt! The yelp that escaped him broke the dreary silence of the rainy night. Seemed walking wasn't an option. Still he could drag himself over and see what he could do.

The combat crawl he found himself reduced to didn't feel a heck of a lot better. But it was getting him there. Jack couldn't decide what was worse, the mud or the ice pellets he was pulling himself through. In the minutes it took to reach his goal, he managed to take in a bit more of his surroundings. It was a long way up. This was the tree lined, deep narrow valley he'd admired on bright summer days. It certainly looked much more inviting on a warm sunny day. Right now, it looked like a one-way trap he would never get out of on his own.

Okay, he told himself, he'd see who needed help and then… what was wrong with him, his cell, he needed to call for help. He should have done that right away. _Must be the head injury,_ he thought. Frustrated with himself he reached into his back pocket, but his cell wasn't with him. He'd left in on the seat in the Jeep, and that had seen better days. _Damn it!_

"Okay, O'Neill, keep moving," he urged himself on, his voice weak and cracking with the pain. _Let's check out the truck and then see what I can do about getting help_. His persistence did the trick. More bruised than before, he finally reached the car and knew immediately what had attracted his attention.

The unfamiliar noise was a baby screaming at the top of his lungs. Strapped securely in a rear facing child seat, the little one seemed physically unhurt. That was much more than could be said for driver. From what Jack could make out through the broken window, she was in her early 20s. Her unspeakable fatal wound was immediately obvious to the senior Air Force officer. Still, he felt for a carotid pulse, hoping there might be something he could do. Most likely this was the infant's mother; it wasn't right for a baby to be left without a mother, it just wasn't right. But right or not, this woman was dead and the most he could do for her was to make certain her infant made it out of here alive and well. He closed the woman's wide open, staring eyes in silence.

With a deep breath, Jack steadied himself and made his way to the other side of the car where the squirming screaming baby remained securely strapped in the safety seat.

"Shh… shh, little guy," he soothed as the baby screeched as loud as he could, his little voice becoming hoarse. "It's going to be alright, I've got you," he said. And indeed, in spite of his injuries, Jack managed to pull himself up, reach into the car and unbuckle the infant. The little one couldn't have been more than four months old and was clad only in an old faded sleeper. As Jack pulled him out he couldn't help but notice a very wet diaper as well. But that was the least of both their worries.

What was he supposed to do now? Bad enough he was stuck down here for the night, but now he had a small baby to look after as well. There was no way he was climbing out of here tonight, even without this little bundle to tote.

Jack was great with kids. But it had been a long time since he'd cared for a baby, since Charlie, in fact. He couldn't remember a time he'd even held a baby since Charlie's death. But he did remember one thing; they got cold and dehydrated fast. And here they were, him with a broken leg and this helpless little guy depending totally on him. Here they were alone in the dark on a cold, wet night, with no shelter and little if any hope of being rescued before dawn.

Okay, first things first. Get the little guy warm. What was the mother thinking bringing her son out on a night like this without a snowsuit? Whatever it was, he didn't have the luxury of wondering for long. The baby was freezing and he had to get him warm. Well off with the diaper, that certainly wasn't doing him any good. Of course the sleeper was soaked too and had to go as well.

His jacket had just been incinerated in the Jeep and there wasn't much of anything to speak of in this car. Then he noticed the driver was wearing a light sweater. Gently Jack removed the garment from the women he assumed was the infant's mother. She wouldn't need it anymore and it would help to warm her child.

And the car, well if the car hadn't caught on fire yet it was most likely safe enough. And it was shelter from the rain and hail.

Without further ado, Jack bundled the child against his chest hoping to warm him with his own body heat as well as his mother's sweater. Perhaps the mother's scent would calm the poor little thing as well. That done, he climbed awkwardly into the back seat of the sedan where at least they could remain dry.

"It's you and me, little guy. We're gonna be okay," Jack whispered. Then the man who often wondered whether a real God existed, offered a silent prayer.

TBC

A/N: Once again, thanks for the reviews. I'm amazed by the interest in this story.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Plan to have another up before the conclusion of the week. Love to hear from you.


	4. Chapter 4 More Than Friends

"_It's you and me, little guy. We're gonna be okay," Jack whispered. Then the man who often wondered whether a real God existed, offered a silent prayer. _

* * *

CHAPTER 4: MORE THAN FRIENDS 

Colonel Samantha Carter USAF, PhD, sat sullenly in the lab she now shared with Rodney McKay. The concept of sharing anything with McKay would have been ludicrous a mere six months ago, but space, energy and finances being what they were on Atlantis station, she couldn't justify an independent lab setup for herself when she arrived. It was unlikely given her administrative role that she'd find much time to spend on research, her first love, anyway.

Her first love … first love … what she loved most … who she loved most … her mind kept wandering back to him throughout the evening, leading her to yet another sleepless night, one she wasn't sure how to justify. After all, she didn't know anything had actually happened to Jack. She simply felt it, the way mothers say they know when something happens to a child or the way lovers … oops, she'd thought the forbidden word.

Now she sat in the space that still screamed McKay's ego. She sat there with her head in her hands, bone tired, but unable to sleep, hoping against hope that her simple presence in the lab would lead her to a solution.

For the past four weeks, Atlantis had been without a working ZPM. Without it, there was no way to supply the Gate with enough energy for the trip to Earth. Though she might be able to come up with sufficient power to send a subspace audio signal through, she could hardly justify the expenditure in the current circumstance. And their next visit from the Daedelus, well, it wasn't due for at least four days.

In the meantime, Sam knew she needed to get control of her worry for Jack. For now, she'd have to lock that emotion away in the same room where she'd stored so many other emotions, thoughts, yearnings. After all, she was thousands of light years away from him, hardly in the position to be of any help and powerless to do anything that might alert others. And much like Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter did not care for powerlessness.

"Colonel Carter," Sam heard her name called from the doorway of the lab. A bit startled from her frustrated thoughts, Sam looked up to find Teyla standing in the doorway.

From the beginning, Sam had felt a kinship of sorts with Teyla, a sister warrior and a woman of compassionate strength. Still, there was the separation she felt with most other members of the base, namely their allegiance to Elizabeth Weir and their reluctance to accept anyone who would take her position. So when Sam realized she was not alone, her initial reaction was to maintain the mantle of strong, invincible leadership and avoid any sign of vulnerability.

"If I'm interrupting, I apologize," Teyla began. "However, several of us were concerned this evening. You appeared quite distracted during our staff meeting. Are you ill?"

"So you drew the short straw and they sent you to check up on me?" Sam asked with a chuckle and a friendly grin. Teyla smiled softly and shrugged.

"I'm not ill, Teyla, thank you. I'll be fine, just need a little rest," Sam continued.

"Worried then?" Teyla persisted, never one to be dissuaded easily.

Sam sensed nothing but genuine concern from this alien woman. From all she'd read in Weir's reports, Teyla was a trustworthy, loyal member of Atlantis' inner circle. Sam's own experience had confirmed Weir's assessment.

Watching Teyla's features carefully, Sam admitted, "I am worried about a friend."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Teyla asked.

"He's far way. I'm afraid there's nothing either of us can do," Sam answered, now barely making eye contact with the other woman.

"So you've left someone special behind, a lover perhaps?" Teyla questioned after a brief silence.

"What makes you say that?" Sam quizzically answered with another question.

"How else would you know to be worried? We've had no contact with Earth for weeks now," Teyla explained.

Sam looked at this woman she barely knew with appreciation and caution.

"It is difficult to leave a mate behind in favor of one's duty," Teyla added, feeling she was finally coming to an understanding of this new leader who shared little of her personal life with the team.

"Not exactly," Sam said too quickly. "I mean, no mate, no lover. I'm single. Can I help you with something Teyla," she asked, really hoping to change the subject.

"No, I was simply wondering if you needed a friend, Colonel Carter. It can be quite lonely here without one."

Sam looked at her once again, regretting her own reluctance to share her thoughts and worries. But how could she put into words something she couldn't admit to herself.

"Thank you, Teyla. I appreciate your concern. But everything's fine. I think I'll turn in now. See you in the morning," Sam said, effectively ending the conversation.

Teyla nodded, reminiscent in some ways of Sam's good friend, Teal'c. Clearly Samantha Carter did not care to speak further. Saying goodnight, Teyla left the lab quietly. Sam wasn't far behind. Just a few moments later, she left the lab that so clearly belonged to Rodney, turned off the lights and closed the door. She could have a sleepless night in her quarters as well as the lab.

_Jack, where are you and what's happening?_

OoOoOo

When Jack failed to appear at the office by 1000 hours on Tuesday morning, his secretary knew something was seriously wrong. She could set her watch by General O'Neill, and although he was less than traditional in many things, he was reliable. She knew something bad had happened; when he didn't answer his cell she alerted his security team.

Madelaine Carson was a practical woman. She remembered details. Fortunately for her boss, she remembered the details of his usual route home and the reasons she had harassed him about taking more care for his own safety. So while three airmen were sent to his suburban home, another crew embarked on the General's favorite homebound route, alerted to carefully examine the ravine that lay below certain mileposts.

OoOoOo

On Atlantis, Sam made an effort to get some sleep. It was futile. After an hour of tossing and turning, she gave up. One of the ways she'd learned to deal with the loneliness and isolation involved with command light years from home was journaling. So, avoiding the laptop that she associated with work, she put pen to paper. In so doing, she gave voice to the words she so much wanted to share with Jack.

_Jack,_

_I've got a bad feeling. You know I was never one to go by feelings or even intuition. It's always been science, logic, rational, sensible thought. Don't ask me to explain it, I don't think I could. Teyla came a little too close for comfort tonight. She actually suggested I was worried about a mate, a lover. Imagine that! _

_How many times I've wished it were so! After Dad's death, I even thought we had a chance for awhile. As usual, we both backed off. It's never quite been time for us, has it? _

_Please promise me, Jack, promise me there's still time for us. I can't stand thinking we may have missed out altogether. Whatever's happening with you now, please hold on till help comes. I only wish I could be there for you. You know I'd be there if I could. And in your heart, you know I love you._

_Sam_

It was all she could do.

* * *

A/N: I know little if anything about the Atlantis story, so please excuse any errors. (I've seen all of one episode from beginning to end, but will be changing that once AT comes aboard.) Any comments/ suggestions especially around Atlantis based characters would be most welcome. 

Thanks once again for your wonderful interest in the story. Please continue to review!!

I'm going away for a week. If the house has wireless, I'll post the next chapter in a few days, otherwise, perhaps a week.


	5. Chapter 5 Jack MacGyvers a Rescue

CHAPTER 5: JACK MACGYVERS A RESCUE

An unfamiliar squeal roused Jack O'Neill from a fitful sleep. It was a shrill sound he'd almost forgotten, the cry of an infant. For a few moments he wondered where he was and where the cry could possibly be coming from. He didn't need to wait long for the answer as one impatient and very hungry baby squirmed persistently against his chest, doing all he could to demand a feeding.

They'd made it through the night. That was good he supposed. The first tendrils of light were clearing the horizon and the icy rain had stopped. Of course Jack wasn't exactly dry. The little guy, without benefit of a dry diaper, had shared the wealth during the night. _At least he wasn't dehydrated!_ Jack thought.

As he lifted his small charge over his head for inspection, Jack was rudely reminded how severely he'd been injured. It was hard to forget when his leg throbbed like it was throbbing right now. And he was cold, pretty darn cold. Somehow he'd been able to keep the baby warm during the night.

It was time to see how he could attract attention. Enough of this resting and hunkering down, there was work to do. To Jack's way of thinking, the first order of business was to check out his surroundings more thoroughly than he'd been able to do in the dark. To that end, he painfully shifted position in the back seat of the small sedan, rearranged the thankfully dry sweater around the small baby boy and secured the child once more in his car seat.

"Okay, little guy, I'll be right back, but for now you need to stay here," he crooned in his softest, most reassuring tone. "Understand?" His tiny companion looked at him seriously for a moment. As soon as he realized his new friend was leaving, the baby started to howl his disapproval.

It took most of Jack's discipline to leave the baby in the car with his dead mother while he dragged himself off to look for supplies, preferably something to attract attention from above. He needed to get the baby out of here sooner rather than later. What's more he knew he wasn't helping his own situation by hobbling around on a broken leg.

Sunrise revealed a peaceful, unspoiled valley, a ravine actually, filled with trees and underbrush. In the midst of it all, Jack could hear flowing water. He remembered looking down from the road during his drives home and seeing a stream. That meant a fresh water source and a clearing of sorts. He knew he needed to start a fire to attract attention from the road above, but hardly wanted to burn the whole valley by setting the underbrush alight.

Although the General's favorite route was not frequently traveled, particularly during inclement weather, he figured a posse of sorts would come looking. He had complete faith in Ms.Carson's relentless tracking of his activities; this was one situation where her obsession with his safety would prove invaluable. Heaven knows his secretary was well aware of his penchant for this particular back road home. She'd certainly lectured him about it often enough. _Come on, Madelaine, send out the troops. I'll never complain about your nagging again, I promise._

Crawling was an extremely slow form of locomotion, especially when important things hung in the balance. And Jack O'Neill was not a patient man. If he'd been thinking clearly he'd have thanked his lucky stars the baby was too young to understand the profanities he spewed in frustration as he made his laboriously painful way to the clearing and the stream. To make matters worse, his breathing was more labored than he'd care to admit. And the gradually increasing chest pain was something he'd rather not think about.

In spite of his rapidly deteriorating physical condition, persistence and sheer grit brought Jack to the edge of the stream and the clearing he sought. Along the way, he'd pulled small, low lying branches to use as kindling, even finding protected pieces dry enough to start and maintain the controlled fires he was planning. Fortunately, there was no shortage of kindling or fuel for the fire.

Jack slowly pulled himself to a sitting position and stopped to catch his breath. To his dismay, this was easier said than done. _Give it minute, O'Neill_, he thought, slowly huffing breath through pursed lips, trying to convince himself he was fine. In the brief, well deserved break from his recent exertions, he felt an unfamiliar peace descend upon him. For a brief moment he could have sworn Carter was right there with him. He was surprised how consoling that thought was. Life would be a lot easier right now in more ways than one if she were here. _Love you, Sam_, he thought silently to himself.

Once his brief respite was over, Jack got to work. Ignoring the nagging pain in his chest, telling himself it was simply one or two more broken ribs, he set to work building small fires along the stream. Fortunately it was turning into a fairly bleak, cloudy day and he hoped both the fire and the smoke he planned to generate would be all the more noticeable from the road.

In his normal state of health, the little fire setting project would have been simple. Given his current situation, it was anything but. By the time the last fire was blazing, Jack was dripping wet from perspiration, despite the forty degree ambient temperature. And the chest pain was worse. He thought of Sam and he thought of the infant he'd left in the car. There was no way he was making his way back to the baby. He could only pray that help would come soon for both of them.

OoOoOo

Sergeant Theodore Morris drove the lead rescue vehicle down the winding, otherwise deserted road. A young airman sat in the passenger seat of the government-issue vehicle. A second vehicle brought up the rear and carried three airmen trained in search and rescue. Though no one actually knew what had become of the General, Madelaine Carson had insisted this treacherous stretch of road was somehow involved. After eighteen months on the job, no one disputed Madelaine's knowledge of the General's habits. Search and rescue was deployed without further question.

By the time Sgt. Morris arrived at the scene of the accident, it was 1300 hours. Alerted by Ms. Carson about the sharp drop off in the area, his passenger had duly scoured the ravine for signs of life since the first designated mile marker. Then Airman Ross saw the smoke.

At first Ross was confused, thinking the whole area of the valley was on fire. After a moment he was able to make out discrete small fires, obviously purposefully set.

OoOoOo

It took less than fifteen minutes for Ross and Morris to make their way down the side of the hill into the ravine. The airmen in the second car stood ready to assist, waiting for word. They didn't have to wait for long.

Morris came upon Jack O'Neill first. The sight that greeted him was disturbing to say the least. The man who was larger than life in his eyes appeared to be unconscious, lying on his side, clutching his right arm. His left leg was splayed in an unnatural position, obviously badly broken. He was relieved to see that he was breathing, but that was the most he could say.

"We need a medic down here and a retrieval stretcher!" he called up to the others. "Get a move on!"

Waiting for the remainder of the team, Ross checked Jack's pulse while Morris prepared him for transport as best he could. Once the field medic arrived, an oxygen mask was put in place and Jack's leg placed in a temporary splint. It was enough movement and discomfort to rouse him.

"Stop, wait…" Jack moaned.

Morris paid little attention. "You're going to be fine, Sir. We'll get you out of here and to a hospital ASAP."

"No … wait," Jack said, as insistently as he could. Still, there was no reaction from the rescue team.

"Wait, Airman, that's an order," he finally barked in as authoritative a tone as he could muster.

With that, the twenty-something Sergeant snapped to and took notice. "Yes, Sir. What is it?"

Jack motioned the young man closer so he could be heard.

"In the car, there's a baby. The mother's dead, but you have to get the baby."

"As soon as we get you out, Sir."

"Now, Mister! That's an order," Jack insisted, groaning with the exertion needed to gain the man's attention.

So it was that at 1330 hours, Jack O'Neill and one Charles Jonathan Gilmore were rescued. Together.

TBC

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A/N: Thanks so much for your continued interest. Please review; your comments are greatly appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6 It's Now or Never

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CHAPTER 6: IT'S NOW OR NEVER

Mercifully, Jack O'Neill lost consciousness before the rescue team succeeded in bringing him all the way up the embankment. In spite of his best intentions to stay awake and in charge, assuring that the baby was safely rescued as well, his body wasn't cooperating. And it was just as well. Despite his stubborn denial, Jack had suffered his first heart attack. From the moment he was loaded into the waiting emergency vehicle, unpleasant medical procedures ensued. Jack had always hated being a patient and today was no exception.

When he finally opened his eyes again, nearly twelve hours had passed. He was groggy and confused. And of course, angry. He was always angry when he woke up attached to invasive, foreign tubes, electrical leads and monitors. Today was no exception. _What's going on? All this for a broken leg and some sore ribs? What's wrong with these people anyway?_

At first, Jack wasn't exactly sure how he'd gotten himself into this mess. Last he knew he was driving home from the Pentagon, looking forward to a nice boring evening at home, alone. Now … oh yeah … taking a plunge off the side of the road. Great, that injury would be worth a few weeks on crutches. Just what he needed! As he was feeling sorry for himself, his vision cleared a bit, and he noticed a familiar face by the bedside. It was like old times, a member of the team here to check up on him. Though he'd deny it if asked, Jack was grateful to see Daniel watching him with concern.

"Jack?" Daniel called, not certain his friend was really aware of his surroundings.

"That's my name, last I checked, Danny boy," Jack quipped in his best attempt to lighten the mood.

"You gave us quite a scare," the younger man revealed. "I thought I'd come by and see you for myself before I headed out on the Daedalus."

"So now Washington's on the way to the Pegasus Galaxy? Changed the maps since I've been out, huh?" Jack smiled, remembering Daniel was due to ship out to Atlantis. At least _he_ had a valid excuse to go; apparently the skilled linguist was needed for a translation of newly discovered Ancient documents. Of course, he'd get to see Sam. _Maybe I could stow away in his baggage, _Jack mused.

"When am I getting out of here, Daniel?" Jack asked, starting to fidget and fuss with the intravenous tubing.

"You just woke up, Jack. Besides, I'm not that kind of doctor, in case you've forgotten." Daniel answered, relieved in some respects that his friend was as irascible as ever. It was a good sign after all.

"Alright, what are all these wires doing on my chest?" Jack asked, pulling one off. As the alarm sounded, Daniel rolled his eyes and shook his head as a dutiful young nurse came running into the room.

"General O'Neill," she said respectfully, once she'd noticed her patient was conscious.

"I'm glad to see you're awake. Now let's figure out why the alarm's going off." In a few seconds, she'd discovered the problem. "I wonder how that happened," she said, proceeding to reattach the lead. "Anyway, it's all fixed now. Since I'm in here, I'll check your vitals and run a strip for the attending cardiologist. He'll be in to see you momentarily."

"I broke my leg. What's with the cardiologist?" Jack protested.

"Yes, you did break your leg, General," the petite, very competent intensive care nurse confirmed. "You've also suffered a myocardial infarction, Sir." Seeing his confusion, she clarified, "Dr. Lindstrom tells me you've had a mild heart attack. So you see we need to keep a close eye on you for awhile."

To say the news caught Jack by surprise would be a major understatement. For this senior military officer, wounded more often than he'd like to remember, on the verge of death at enemy hands altogether too frequently, the thought that his body would betray him like this was beyond belief. He looked at Daniel, hoping for a contradiction, but his friend nodded slowly.

"Jack, they say you'll be here a few days at least," Daniel said. "From what the doctor says, they can't operate on your leg until your heart condition stabilizes."

"Well, that's just great! What am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Get better? Rest? Relax? I don't know. How does that sound?" Daniel suggested, assuming his friend would do none of the above.

Suddenly Jack remembered. "What about the baby, Daniel?"

"Baby?" Daniel asked, momentarily at a loss. Then he recalled Jack had been rescued along with a four-month-old baby. "The baby's going to be fine Jack. Actually, I think he's right upstairs in pediatrics. They're keeping him overnight for observation."

"Were they able to contact his father?" Jack asked.

"I don't know any details, Jack," Daniel answered. "I've been too preoccupied with this friend of mine who had a heart attack."

"His mother died in the accident, you know, Daniel," Jack continued, unable to get his mind off the little bundle he'd held in his arms through the night. Besides, worrying about the baby took his mind off his own pathetic situation. At least he'd been able to help the little guy before this happened to him.

"I heard that Jack. I'm sure they'll find his family," Daniel attempted to reassure his friend.

"You're right, Daniel," Jack said, hoping that was true. "Hey, can you take a message to Sam for me?"

"Sure, I know she'd love to hear from you," Daniel said sincerely. "And when I tell her what's happened, she'll be worried."

"Well, see that's what I'm afraid of, Daniel," Jack began. "I know it sounds strange, but I think she already knows. We've got this connection thing, have ever since she left for Atlantis."

"Really?" Daniel teased more than asked, in that innocent, yet all knowing tone he used a bit too often.

"Yeah, I get a bad feeling when she's in trouble, like with the Replicators last month. And today, I could have sworn Sam was with me. She felt so close, Daniel," Jack added, not feeling particularly certain of his intuition. "Does that sound crazy?"

"After everything we've seen, you're asking me if a connection between two people who care about each other is crazy? You're kidding, right?" Daniel asked rhetorically.

"I want her to know everything's okay," Jack said, trying to ignore the rest of Daniel's statement.

"We could do a video, Jack," Daniel suggested. "Then she can see you in the flesh. Should be reassuring," he continued, whipping out the video camera he just happened to have in his bag.

"No, Daniel. That's the last thing she needs," Jack said authoritatively. "Pictures of me hooked up to God knows what here. Give me a few minutes and some paper. I'll write her, okay?"

"Sure, Jack," Daniel agreed, turning over a pen he'd stuffed in his pocket and a pad of paper from the bedside table. "I'll be right outside the door when you're ready."

OoOoOo

Jack's letter writing was interrupted by a timely visit from Dr. Lindstrom. Timely perhaps, but not welcome given the news he brought. Though Jack had suffered minimal damage from the heart attack itself, according to the cardiologist, he would require an angioplasty to open at least one narrowed coronary artery. Jack took the news as an insult. After all, he was in near peak physical condition. It wasn't right, certainly wasn't fair. Dr. Lindstrom assured him that some cases of coronary artery disease are as much related to familial factors as lifestyle issues. Besides, according to the graying, hyper-serious specialist, coronary artery disease played a small role in his attack. Apparently, the primary culprit had been a combination of the cold, extreme pain and the exertion Jack had encountered that night. The information Dr. Lindstrom imparted did little to ease his patient's rapidly deteriorating mood.

Adding insult to injury, when Jack wondered aloud, _why now?,_ referring to multiple episodes of far worse circumstances, Lindstrom had the audacity to remind him he wasn't getting any younger. As for physical limitations from this point on, Lindstrom was unwilling to make any promises.

So, as Jack wrote his letter to Sam, he felt handcuffed yet again. In spite of his subconscious resolution to change things between them to the best of his ability, he couldn't ask her to come to him now. Yes, he was still among the living and had yet one more chance to make things right between them. But as far as he was concerned, she'd be getting damaged goods, even more damaged than before, and he wasn't about to do that to the woman he loved.

OoOoOo

Upstairs in pediatrics, a grieving forty-nine-year-old mother arrived to care for her grandson.

TBC

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A/N: I just discovered a wireless connection where I'm on vacation! So I guess I can keep posting after all!

Again many thanks for reading and taking time to comment on this story. Some new developments are in the works and I'm anxious to hear your reactions. Much of what I do next, particularly with length or details of the story will depend upon your interest.

Looking forward to your reviews!


	7. Chapter 7 Family

_Upstairs in pediatrics, a grieving forty-nine year old mother arrived to care for her grandson._

* * *

CHAPTER 7: "FAMILY" 

The next morning dawned overcast and drear, a good match for Major General Jonathan O'Neill's mood. He'd undergone angioplasty last night and was awaiting surgery to properly set and pin his broken leg later today. He was not a happy camper.

To the best of his knowledge, Daniel was on his way to Pegasus, carrying a light and cheerful letter to Sam. Jack was sure the simple missive would ease her mind some; truth be told that was the point. Still, he'd hoped for something more. Lying at the bottom of that ravine, Jack had dared to hope their time had come. He'd been ready to throw caution to the wind and go for it, to risk having his heart broken with a "no". But not now, not knowing his "condition". Now there would be regret and pity thrown into the equation and he wouldn't have it. He had to face it; he'd finally waited too long.

Where, oh where, was that pesky nurse? She'd threatened to come in with his pre-medication within the hour. Now she was nowhere to be found and he was _so_ ready to be put out of his misery. Even he couldn't stand the self pity much longer.

Just when he'd thought she'd forgotten him altogether, a stylishly dressed woman in her late forties entered the room, carrying something in her arms. No, she definitely wasn't Nurse Rachett. This woman was cradling a baby in her arms. Jack hadn't the slightest idea who she was, yet her revelations would change everything.

"Excuse me, General O'Neill," the woman began hesitantly. "I'm sorry to intrude, but I wanted to thank you."

"And you are?" Jack asked, perplexed.

"Again, I'm sorry. I'm Christina Gilmore. My daughter Jessica died in the accident Monday night," the woman said her tone sad and distant. "And this," she added, brightening considerably as she walked toward Jack's bed, "this is my grandson, Charlie, the baby you saved."

Jack sat up as straight as he was able under the circumstances. "Charlie … of course," he said softly, marveling at the humor of fate. "Is he okay?"

"Absolutely, thanks to you," Christina answered. She pulled back the blanket that wrapped the small child as if to prove his good health to his savior. "They wanted to keep Charlie overnight for observation. Seems he had a touch of hypothermia. But he's doing well and he's coming home with me today."

"I'm terribly sorry for your loss, Ma'am," Jack said, remembering the reason this infant was now in the care of his grandmother. "I regret there was nothing I could do for your daughter."

"From the heroics I'm told you did perform, I'm certain you would have saved her too if you could have done so, General," Christina assured him. "They tell me there was nothing that could have been done. Most likely, Jessica died on impact."

Jack nodded solemnly.

"What about Charlie's father? Isn't he coming to get his son?" Jack asked, knowing that if it were his place he'd be there for the child in a heartbeat.

"Father?" Christina snorted. "That man will never be a father; a poorly chosen sperm donor perhaps, but not a father," she added, her deep resentment of the unnamed man overpowering the strength of her grief and adding fire to her voice. "It's a long sad story, General. Perhaps someday you'll need to hear it, but now I'm told you're awaiting surgery. I've disturbed you enough for one day I'm afraid."

"Not at all, Ms. Gilmore. It was good of you to come by," Jack said sincerely, a warm smile directed at the baby, sleeping securely in his grandmother's arms. "Seeing little Charlie looking so well is the best thing likely to happen to me today."

Christina reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. She placed it on the bedside table. "General, when you're strong enough, I believe the two of us may have some business to pursue," she began. "My daughter was enlisted Air Force, an aide to General Francis. I believe you know him."

"Yes, I do, but …"

"Enough, General," she said, her smile belying the tears that threatened. "If you want to know more, rest, get well and then come see us. Goodbye and thank you again." With that, Charlie and Christina Gilmore were gone.

OoOoOo

On Atlantis, it was business as usual. Of course, the term "usual" covered a great deal of ground on this, the first and only Earth outpost in another galaxy. Be that as it may, Colonel Samantha Carter was eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Daedalus and her good friend, Daniel Jackson.

Weeks ago, an expedition to an unexplored section of the city had unearthed Ancient documents referencing both the Wraith and Replicators. The tantalizating words "destruction", "final answer" and "salvation" had jumped out at Sam as snippets she readily recognized. Unfortunately, no one available to her on Atlantis had the needed fluency in this particular Ancient dialect to complete a translation that made any sense. So, before the last ZPM was depleted, she'd asked for help from a trusted and much missed colleague. Daniel, of course, had been happy to oblige.

Now, days after her premonition about Jack, she was counting on this visit as an opportunity to know what had really happened to the man she loved. Yes, at least she was admitting that inconvenient fact to herself. Samantha Carter, the leader of Atlantis base, was in love. And he was light years away. But soon she'd have news. Moreover, since her anxiety had decreased markedly in the past forty-eight hours or so, she expected the news to be good.

"Colonel Carter to the observation lounge … Colonel Carter to the observation lounge," the overhead pager called. It was what she'd been waiting for. They were here.

The problem with the overhead paging system was that messages Sam would rather have restricted were broadcast to the entire station. This particular, seemingly innocuous one was no exception.

As a result, when she arrived to meet the Daedalus team, she found Rodney McKay had beaten her to the lounge and to Daniel. He'd succeeded in engaging the archeologist in a heated debate over the usefulness of the scroll he'd come to examine. After the requisite greeting to the military members of the advance team, Sam decided it was time to rescue Daniel.

"Rodney, what do you say we give our guest a chance to settle in before we put him to work?" she suggested as pleasantly as possible.

"Colonel, I was just asking Dr. Jackson's opinion on the second statement of the scroll. I'm certain he can complete the discussion, can't you doctor?" Rodney said, not intending to wait for a reply.

"Rodney…" Sam cautioned patiently.

"Okay, after the briefing then," McKay gave in. "Colonel, Doctor," he said, trying his best to be deferential, as he reluctantly backed his way out of the room.

"Alone at last," Daniel said, coming over to give Sam a friendly hug. "It's good to see you."

"It's very good to see you Daniel," Sam said, pulling back from the embrace just enough to clearly see her good friend. "It's been a long six months. How are you, Daniel. Ready for the work we've got set up for you?"

"Ready for McKay and company? Hardly," he said smiling, "but then again, who is? Ready for a visit with my friend, Sam? Absolutely."

"True enough," Sam replied, basking in her friend's presence. Then, "Daniel, I'm wondering, any word from Jack?"

Daniel chuckled. "As a matter of fact, I happen to have a letter with your name on it."

Sam let out a deep breath she hadn't been aware she was holding. "He's okay, isn't he?"

"It was touch and go for awhile, Sam, but yes, Jack's going to be fine," Daniel said, taking in the incomplete relief on Sam's lovely features. "You know, I'll let you read what Jack has to say for himself; then I'll give you the rest of the story. Okay?"

Daniel handed Sam the letter with her given name written in Jack's familiar scrawl. She was surprised by her tender reaction to that simple gift.

"Thanks, Daniel," she said.

"No problem, Sam. I'm going to check out my quarters and get ready for the briefing," he said. "See you at 0900."

With the hint of a knowing smile, Sam watched Daniel leave the lounge. Thirty minutes. If fate should smile upon her she'd have a precious thirty minutes with Jack's letter. Given her experience of Atlantis she wasn't willing to trust fate and so she began to read without delay.

_Dear Sam,_

_I got this funny feeling the other night that you were with me. Strange, you light years away and all. But it felt very real. And I was glad for it. Before you start, let me say, please, no technobabble to explain this, I like it just the way it is._

_You see, I had this little car accident. Actually, I got myself stranded at the bottom of one of the foothills overnight. Seems I broke my leg in the process. You know how I love being helpless. Well, helpless and in pain is a bad combination. After all, there was no one to apply a famous Carter splint. Maybe that's why I conjured you up in my mind. What do you think?_

_Seriously, Sam, thinking about you was a comfort. Then I got to thinking, maybe you were thinking about me too. Seems we've had a connection like that the last few months, friends and all, you know. Anyway, I thought you might be worried. I want you to know I'm fine. The leg will heal and this old warhorse will be back on his way, miserable as ever. _

_I hear great things about you, Carter. Kicking lots of alien butt and all that. It's an honor to know you, Sam, always has been. You're a credit to the service; all that stuff I said awhile back about you being a national treasure, it was true._

_Hey, Daniel and the guys on the Daedalus should be bringing you a recharged ZPM. With any luck, you and McKay can find a way to get the intergalactic bridge functioning again. I think it's about time for a visit home to debrief a few of the top brass at the Pentagon. _

_There's one particular old General who'd be very happy to see you, Colonel. _

_Until then,_

_Jack_

He missed her. That was probably the closest Jack could come to admitting it. And he was okay. Thank God. Then again, Daniel suggested there might be more to the story than Jack was willing to admit. Well she'd have to get that information soon. For now, Jack was safe and he missed her. That would have to do. Hopefully, she would see him soon.

TBC

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A/N: Your comments are much appreciated as always. I'm repeatedly struck by your dedication to these characters. After all these years, we really care what happens to them! In that, TPTB have done a great job! 

Once again, any suggestions about the Atlantis characters from those of you more familiar with Atlantis, please feel free to help me out. Otherwise, just sit back, enjoy the ride and, of course, read and review!


	8. Chapter 8 The Plot Thickens

* * *

Chapter 8: THE PLOT THICKENS

In their shared, sometimes disputed laboratory space, Doctors McKay and Carter were engaged in yet another spirited debate, this time over the scheduled reopening of the intergalactic bridge. McKay was insisting that personnel could be safely sent to the SGC for furlough almost immediately, while Sam insisted on a trial period to insure the gateway was working up to specifications again.

"Rodney, what do we have to lose by waiting a week or two, just to be safe?" Sam asked in what she considered a reasonable tone of voice. On some level, she was convinced McKay came up with specious arguments for no other reason than to test her resolve and command ability.

"Colonel, being a member of the military, doesn't mean you're always right," McKay said indignantly.

"No it doesn't, Rodney," Sam replied calmly. "But for now it means the final decision and the responsibility for that decision is mine. So we wait." Little did the impetuous, insecure McKay know that Colonel Carter was much more anxious to get home than he could imagine.

OoOoOo

Within a week of the accident, Jack had been discharged from the hospital. Seemed that with his attitude, there wasn't an orthopedic rehab on the east coast that thought he needed in house treatment. On sheer stubbornness alone, the hardened senior officer was deemed able to pursue his rehabilitation on an outpatient basis.

The fact that he lived alone had given discharge planners pause. Yet their misgivings were forgotten once a large, imposing figure well known to the patient made an appearance. Ah, finally someone to put the patient from hell in his place!

When it came to in-home nursing for one Jack O'Neill, his immediate superior, George Hammond, had selected none other than Teal'c. Fortunately, the Jaffa who'd bravely faced down his own false god was on Earth with plans to stay and help out at the SGC for several weeks. Hammond had easily convinced him that the best way to be of help would be to take on his old friend O'Neill's idiosyncrasies for a week or so. After Apophis, that shouldn't be too hard, right?

Needless to say, Teal'c agreed to take on the challenge. Fortunately for all involved, Jack accepted this arrangement with fairly good humor, convinced that if nothing else it was a great way to catch up with his old friend. As it was, Jack was already walking quite ably with crutches. At the rate he was going he'd graduate to a cane in a couple of weeks.

The first few days home passed without incident. By the fourth day, Jack was entering the stage of terminal boredom, wondering when this period of forced inactivity would end. In comparison, even the torture of his Pentagon drudgery seemed fascinating.

It was in this frame of mind that the sidelined General decided it was as good a time as any to follow up with Christina Gilmore. After all, he was curious to find out more about the tiny baby he'd kept warm that night, the little Charlie his own dear son had brought to his attention.

Telling himself he was simply satisfying his curiosity, Jack rescued the business card Ms. Gilmore had left with him. From what little the woman had said it was possible Charlie still needed his help. _What was up with that dead beat father of his anyway_? Jack wondered. There was only one way to find out, call her. So, not totally clear about his motives, he made the call and invited Christina Gilmore to lunch.

Christina had been glad to hear from him. She'd expected him to call. From what she'd heard of Jack O'Neill, she realized he wouldn't be able to resist hearing more about the child he'd saved. And given Jack's physical condition, she was more than willing to accept an invitation to lunch at his house, rather than dragging him out somewhere else. Of course, Charlie was invited as well.

"O'Neill, what is it we are serving for lunch today?" Teal'c asked in his still too formal manner.

"I've got it covered, T.," Jack answered cavalierly from the other room. "I gave Ms. Gilmore the choice of pizza or Chinese. She chose Chinese, with chopsticks. It should be here soon."

"Did you order sweet and sour for me, O'Neill?" Teal'c asked with sincere concern.

"Is the Pope Catholic?" Jack teased, before he realized the analogy would be lost on his alien friend.

"I do not know O'Neill. Who is this Pope?" Teal'c responded with his usual deadpan innocent expression.

"Sorry, T., you had to be there and you weren't," Jack answered, deciding an explanation would be fruitless. "Yes, double orders, sweet and sour chicken and pork, with egg rolls."

Teal'c nodded his gratitude. Seconds later the doorbell rang. Their guests had arrived. Teal'c opened the door to a tall, slender woman pushing a baby stroller. The woman he assumed was Christina Gilmore appeared taken aback by his appearance. Then Teal'c remembered the telltale brand. He'd forgotten the omnipresent "Murray cap".

"Welcome. You must be Ms. Gilmore," Teal'c said spontaneously, hoping to distract her from the obvious awkward questions. "O'Neill is expecting you, please come in."

"Yes, Ms. Gilmore, come in. I'm glad you could come," Jack called, making his way in from the kitchen where he'd put out the paper plates he associated with Chinese food. "Excuse my obviously limited mobility," he said, holding up one crutch, "but I'm getting pretty good with these." Arriving at the door, where Christina remaining fixed to the spot, Jack introduced Teal'c in his usual matter of fact manner. "And this, this is my old friend, Murray. I see you've noticed the tattoo. Youthful indiscretion that. Some people have hearts on their arms, Murray got a snake on his head," Jack said, shrugging his shoulders. His silly attempted explanation earned a solemn nod from Teal'c and a chuckle from their guest. _There's hope for this one_, Jack thought.

Moments later Christina had made her way into the living room and was taking Charlie out of his stroller.

"May I get you something to drink, Ms. Gilmore," Murray offered.

"Ice water would be fine. Please call me Christina, both of you," she replied pleasantly.

"Alright, Christina," Jack said, "then it's Jack, not General."

The next hour or so was spent companionably over a very informal lunch. Both Jack and Teal'c found themselves impressed with Christina Gilmore. They learned she was an extremely successful advertising executive with a modeling firm based in New York City. She'd been stationed in Washington for the better part of the year, a move she'd accepted happily at first since it offered the promise of more time with her daughter, Jessica. Now, having buried her only child three days earlier, she planned to assume guardianship of her infant grandson.

"You know, Christina," Jack began. "When we met in the hospital, you mentioned something about Jessica and General Francis. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind. I think I met your daughter, a little over a year ago when she first came on board."

"I believe that was the case, Jack," Christina replied with a smile. "From what I recall, my daughter was quite taken with you." She paused, clearly considering whether or not to share the next piece of information. "So much so, she named her son after you."

Christina smiled gently at the look of shock that came over the professional soldier's face. He thought she thought …

"No, Jack, please don't go there. Though it would have been a much more pleasant scenario if you ask me," Christina said. "Don't worry. My grandson's name is Charles, after Jessica's father. It's his middle name I wanted you to know about. Jessica named him Charles Jonathan."

Jack's mind was scrambling. His brief meeting with Jessica Gilmore was becoming clearer as her mother talked. The young woman had recently been assigned to General Francis' office and was attending an open house for enlisted staff and their families. Senior officers were also invited. It was at that function Jack O'Neill had brusquely fended off what could only be described as a come-on. How the heck was he supposed to explain this to her mother? What's more, where in the world was she going with this conversation? She couldn't possibly think … Could she? What had Airman Gilmore told her mother?

"I'm confused, Ms. Gilmore," Jack admitted, deciding to pull back from this cozy little gathering a bit. "Why would your daughter name her son after me?"

Jack was relieved to see a pleasant smile on Christina Gilmore's face as she tenderly fussed with her infant grandson. His momentary relief faded when the same lady cast a suspicious look at "Murray".

"I know this is an odd question, Jack, so please forgive me," she said. "How well do you trust your friend, Murray?"

Jack's cocked eyebrow was answered by "Murray's" own look of bewilderment.

"I trust him with my life," Jack said, his defenses on alert. "What is this about, Ms. Gilmore?"

"I'm sorry for the mystery, General," Christina said sincerely. "Jessica thought very highly of you and I'm hoping you may be able to help me find some justice for her."

OoOoOo

In the Pegasus Galaxy, Atlantis station was gearing up for the reopening of the intergalactic bridge. Rodney McKay had once again accepted the fact that the beautiful and altogether too competent Samantha Carter was in charge and the initial briefing concerning the newly discovered scroll translation had been completed.

As the planet's twin suns prepared to set for the night, Daniel and Sam finally had time to talk.

"He's says he's fine. Tells me it was a broken leg and he's on the mend," Sam said. "What isn't he telling me, Daniel?"

"A little detail … like a heart attack," Daniel admitted. Heck if his friend couldn't be more forthcoming, at least he believed Sam had a right to know.

Sam's eyes were big as saucers. "Heart attack? … Daniel … how is he, really?" she asked with alarm.

"He _is_ okay, Sam," Daniel said calmingly. "His doctors call it a mild episode, little if any lasting damage to the heart muscle. Personally, I'd say he was damned lucky, another one of those nine lives of his."

"You mean he actually has some of those left?" Sam said trying to restrain her feelings.

"Seems so, and I should know," Daniel answered with a chuckle. "Oh, he also left out the part about how he saved a baby in the process."

"A baby?" _Leave it to Jack to save someone while he was having a heart attack. _No wonder she loved him so.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I heard some fear in one or two of the reviews that I might try and pair Jack with someone else in this fic. Yikes! Perish the thought! Anyway, that's part of the reason I provided Teal'c as a chaperone. Also for those of you who think Jack needs a slap upside the head when he gets all down on himself, don't worry, that's on its way as well. 

That being said, it might be awhile before our favorite couple gets their happily-ever- after. Patience is a very important virtue, you know! (Of course it's already been ten years, but who's counting!)

Hoping you all hang in with me through the story ahead.

Please continue to push that little button to review. It's amazing the motivation it gives my muse. It's great to write for an interested audience! (Also helps to have a week's vacation by a beautiful lake with absolutely no responsibilities! Lucky me!)


	9. Chapter 9 The Story Continues

CHAPTER 9: THE STORY CONTINUES

The next morning Jack awoke slowly, greeted by the persistent chatter of the friendly, all too tame wildlife outside his window. He never did understand why these otherwise carefree creatures had to be up before sunrise. Worse yet the squirrels, chipmunks and assorted avian species seemed determined to be sure he was as well. Didn't they know he was recuperating and needed his sleep?

To be honest, what he resented most about waking up this morning was the interruption of a cherished dream. As happened several mornings since the accident, Jack's last dream before awakening involved Sam. In the dream, he'd wake up much as he did today, catching the predawn light out of the corner of his eye and trying to roll over before he lost hold of the last vestiges of sleep. But in this particular dream, there was one important difference. He woke up with Samantha Carter cradled in his arms. Always she was turned to face him, an angelic smile on her lips. And as he enjoyed the sensation of holding her in his arms, Jack knew all was right in his world. For the fleeting moments of that dream, all _was_ right in his world. Then he'd wake up for real, doubting the dream would ever come to pass.

And that's where he found himself this morning, back in reality. Within seconds of letting go of his dream, Jack's mind returned to the unpleasant revelations of yesterday afternoon and his visit with Charlie Gilmore's grandmother.

No one could deny that Christina Gilmore was an attractive woman. A tall, stately beauty with short, fashionably cut auburn hair, there was no doubt she could have worked as a model for her current employer in her younger days. Now, as Jack lay on his bed, postponing the moment of truth when he'd start to prepare for the daily trip to his physical therapy appointments, he struggled to make sense of the information this seemingly sincere woman had given him. No doubt it had taken a great deal of courage for Christina to share so much personal information with men who were complete strangers to her. In itself, her willingness to expose family secrets reinforced the need to carefully consider his next steps. As distasteful as any action would be, after listening to Christina Gilmore, Jack believed action was required.

He remembered how Teal'c had offered to leave him alone for the talk with Christina.

"_Perhaps I should provide the two of you with some privacy for this discussion," the discrete Jaffa had offered._

"_No, Murray, I don't think so," Jack had replied without a second thought. He had a sneaking suspicion he might want a witness to this conversation. "I want you to hear whatever Ms. Gilmore has to say."_

"_General, Jack, I'm sorry," Christina had interjected at that point. "I'm afraid my air of mystery has given you the wrong impression. If you're afraid I've come here to accuse you of something, you are very much mistaken. Just the opposite, Jessica gave her son your name second only to her father's because of the respect she held for you. However, I did come to let you know of improprieties committed by someone under your command."_

_With that Jack's mind had gone off in a totally different direction. _

"_Go ahead, I'm listening," he'd said, his attention inadvertently drawn to little Charlie, now propped on his grandmother's lap, his eyes fixed on the tall, lanky man with graying hair directly in front of him. Before he'd known what was happening, the little tyke had managed to find his way onto Jack's lap where he happily stayed for the remainder of the discussion._

"_Jessica told me about her first meeting with you, Jack," Christina said. "She was embarrassed by her own behavior at that party. And she was grateful for how you treated her. _

_You see, my daughter, she had some problems, especially when it came to men. I take responsibility for a good part of that, what with her father and all. His name was Charles. He was career Air Force, like you, a Lieutenant Colonel actually. After ten years of traveling around from one assignment to the next, I couldn't take it anymore. That life wasn't for me. I wanted my own career and I couldn't have it chasing him around the world. So I left and took our daughter with me. _

_I have to admit, Chuck tried to keep in touch for awhile. But by the time Jessica was fifteen or so, he'd pretty much dropped out of her life. Shipped out overseas shortly after 9/11 and the next thing we heard he'd been killed in Iraq. That was three years ago._

_None of that justifies Jessica's sexual acting out, but I wanted you to know some of her background. She idolized her father and was furious at me for keeping her from him. By the time she was sixteen, she was off doing pretty much whatever she wanted and getting into all sorts of trouble. When she finally decided to enlist in the Air Force, well, it wasn't what I wanted for her, but I thought they could do something for her I couldn't. Unfortunately, I was wrong._

_By the time you met her at that party she was twenty-two. She'd already had an abortion and some fairly sordid affairs with less than desirable men. She told me about you at the same time she told me she was pregnant with Charlie. At first I thought she was telling me you were Charlie's father. Instead she was telling me she wished she had listened to you when you confronted her about her behavior._

"_I remember now," Jack had told Christina, "I really let her have it, told I could have her up on charges of conduct unbecoming…"_

"_You told her what she needed to hear," Christina had said, gently interrupting him. "From what Jessica told me, you talked to her, not only as an outraged superior officer, but as a father figure. And in reality, that's exactly what my little girl had been chasing after. If only she'd listened to you. You see not everyone in your position is as scrupulous. Others, particularly Raymond Francis, were more than willing to take what my daughter offered, without a second thought."_

"_What happened?" Jack had asked, professionally compelled to know the details of his subordinate's indiscretion with the young airman assigned to his office. _

"_They had an affair. You probably know General Francis has a family, one he trots out for most official occasions. For a year, he had my daughter on the side. When she told him she was pregnant, of course, he was furious. He insisted she get an abortion. As Jessica tells it, he backhanded her when she refused. And that was the beginning of the abuse. __The medical examiner tells me she had bruises in different stages of healing all over her body at the time of death."_

"_You mean she continued to see him after Charlie was born?" Jack asked incredulously._

"_I'm afraid so. She was determined to get the support and recognition she felt she deserved. I'd offered to help her financially, but she said Francis owed it to her and Charlie," Christina said. "I pleaded with her not to confront him, but she wouldn't hear me out. Then I offered to go with her; she wasn't having it. From what I've pieced together, she was with him the night of the accident. The medical examiner noted a fresh bruise not accounted for by the crash. I think she was running away from him when this happened. As far as I'm concerned, that bastard is responsible for my daughter's death. And I want him to pay."_

Reflecting now on Christina's anguished tale of her daughter's short life, Jack thought how sad it was he hadn't checked up on Jessica after the night of the party. Maybe if he had …; no, he knew in his heart that wouldn't have been a good idea. All told, this was the story of a damaged girl looking for something she'd felt she'd lost, a father. Unfortunately she'd met up with a high ranking professional soldier, set up to be her mentor, who was more than willing to exploit her vulnerability.

The story was as old as time itself and all too familiar these days. The fact that if had been heard before did not lessen Jack's determination to see to it that one Raymond Francis was called to answer for his behavior.

But for now, it was first things first.

At this moment, Teal'c stood at the door informing his injured friend that they were running late for the morning's physical therapy appointment. Anyone else, Jack would have told to stuff it. But Teal'c … at least the drive and the session would give him time to consider how to approach General Francis. The officer had taken advantage of a young woman nearly forty years his junior in direct violation of his ethical responsibilities and professional code of conduct. And Jack was not about to turn the other way.

OoOoOo

In the commander's quarters on Atlantis station, Colonel Samantha Carter was startled from her all too short sleep by the ringing of the non-acute station alarm. In the course of her command thus far, she'd come to understand that the non-acute alarm indicated a problem the duty crew could handle as opposed to the louder, more strident acute alarm which basically signaled a crisis that could blow up the station in the next five minutes.

In this case, Sam knew she had _at least_ five minutes to get her wits about her before contacting the command deck for details, and probably that long before they directly paged her, wondering what was taking her so long. Sitting up, hesitantly wiping the sleep from her eyes, she let her thoughts wander back to the precious dream that had been so rudely interrupted yet again. It was the one where she woke up in Jack's arms, relishing his scent, his strength and his simple presence. She felt the now familiar smile tug at her lips involuntarily as she called to mind the feelings of comfort and safety, wondering whether the reality would ever come to pass.

She needed to send him a message; she needed to finally tell him how she felt.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Alas, this is my last day at the lake, going home tomorrow morning. It's been great. The sunshine is to die for! 

Thanks for all of your reading and reviewing. Hearing from you always makes me smile – even more than I'm already doing this week!

Please bear in mind I know nothing of military protocol in cases such as the one I outlined in this chapter. If any readers have some background and knowledge in the area, please feel free to share.


	10. Chapter 10 Message From Pegasus

A/N: A relatively simple chapter. I had fun with it and I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

_She needed to send him a message. She needed to finally tell him how she felt._

OoOoOo

CHAPTER 10: A MESSAGE FROM PEGASUS

In the early evening Jack and his erstwhile chauffeur, Teal'c, pulled into the driveway of the O'Neill home. They'd been gone the better part of the day. After medical appointments, Jack had insisted on visiting a JAG he knew personally. He'd used the opportunity to review the information he had on General Francis and familiarize himself with his options. The meeting had gone much longer than anticipated. Jack's friend had advised him to begin the process of general court martial as soon as possible After all, the Major General was technically General Francis' commanding officer; like it or not it was his responsibility.

Jack and Teal'c were surprised to find a familiar vehicle already parked in the driveway.

"I was wondering if you two would make it back in time," called the booming voice of General George Hammond. "Must have been quite a physical therapy session," he added.

"General, this is great!" Jack bellowed in the most enthusiastic tone he'd managed since the hospital. "To what do we owe the honor, Sir?"

"Sam, actually," Hammond replied. "And Jack, how many times do I have to tell you to call me George?"

"Sorry, Sir, uh … George, it's not easy. I think of you as Sir, General Hammond ...you know what I mean," Jack said, grimacing as he stumbled through his awkward response.

"Yes, I do son," George Hammond replied. Then under his breath he added, "I think a certain Colonel is having the same problem with you."

"What's this about Sam?" Jack asked, imagining the worst must have happened to bring Hammond all the way out to see him. Then again, the older man sounded much too jovial to be the bearer of bad news.

"Let's go inside first," George Hammond suggested. Then as they headed towards the house, "Don't worry, Sam's fine."

Teal'c had opened the front door, several strides in front of O'Neill and Hammond. Hammond shot the larger man a conspiratorial half smile.

"Jack, it looks like you're making good progress getting around," George offered as they entered the living room.

"Well, if you call hobbling on crutches progress, I suppose so, Sir, George" Jack groused. "My oh so cheerful physical therapist reminds me it could be worse. I suppose I should be grateful; I'm likely to get full mobility back, or so she says."

"That's good news, Jack," Hammond said. "We wouldn't want you retiring or anything."

Jack couldn't help noticing Teal'c had made himself scarce. When he returned, he was carrying Guinness for Jack and their guest and a cranberry juice for himself

"No, Teal'c, thank you, none of that for me, General Hammond said reluctantly. I'm afraid I'm not going to be able to stay. But before I go, I want to thank you, Teal'c, for the special service you're providing. Can't think of anyone else who could have handled it."

Jack choked on the Guinness he'd begun to sip. Teal'c smiled his cagey half smile and nodded with all seriousness. "It is my honor to provide the service others cannot, General Hammond."

"Hey!" Jack protested. "I'm in the room and I'm not _that_ bad a patient."

"Indeed, O'Neill," Teal'c agreed. "I believe your young therapist would state that you are worse."

"You know," Jack said looking helplessly at Hammond and gesturing to his Jaffa friend, "I liked him better before he started to develop a sense of humor."

George Hammond chuckled in spite of himself. "Alright, son, as much as I'd like to stick around for this, I need to get on with the real reason I came."

"Not to check out our sparkling repartee?"

"No. Actually I brought a get well present, Jack."

"You're kidding."

With that, Hammond opened the case he'd carried in with him and pulled out an ultra-slim notebook computer. "I thought you'd enjoy this Jack," he said.

Jack was perplexed to say the least. "That's very thoughtful, Sir. But I'm afraid I already have one of those. You know, for the job and all."

"You _don't_ have one of _these,_ General O'Neill," Hammond said with a self-satisfied grin. "This particular model transmits real time personal transmissions, relayed through the Stargate, sometimes from other galaxies."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Jack. It's just off the drawing board from Area 51. I assured them you would be more than happy to put it through its paces and report back on its efficiency," Hammond said tongue-in-check. "Are you willing to help out, son?"

"You know me, always one to help out. Cooperation is my middle name," Jack replied with a cockeyed grin. He loved this guy.

"Okay, then," Hammond said. "Initial transmission will be from the Pegasus Galaxy in about," he paused as he checked his watch, "twenty minutes. I'd say you should fire it up now and I'll be on my way."

Hammond made to leave.

"Thank you, Sir," Jack called after him.

"George," he corrected. "Night, Teal'c, and thanks again," he called after his favorite Jaffa.

A moment later, George Hammond was gone, leaving a very discombobulated Jack O'Neill in his wake.

"What was that T.?" Jack asked.

"I believe you call it 'a get well present', O'Neill," Teal'c answered cryptically.

"Ah … so you _are_ in on this, aren't you?"

"Indeed," he replied, barely hiding a chuckle. "I shall leave you to the 'personal communication' of which General Hammond spoke."

Teal'c discretely made his exit. Jack followed directions and booted up the small notebook computer. It certainly was state of the art; though he couldn't see a webcam, he was fairly certain this baby was equipped with that and more. Jack waited, flicking his finger on the desk as the screensaver rattled through its paces. Then, right on time, the screen sprang to life. The script "Live Transmission, coded" flashed center screen. Then the momentarily pixilated image cleared to reveal none other than the commander of Atlantis station.

"Hi," she said. No "Sir", no "this is Colonel Carter", just "hi". Of course she was in uniform, such as it was on Atlantis station, but that was about as formal as this particular call was going to be. Jack knew immediately from the look in her eye, there was no formal report or emergency to be had here. Sam was calling to speak with Jack.

"Hi, Carter," he replied. "How are the long distance rates between galaxies these days? Must be awfully important to call during peak hours." He couldn't help it; it was too awkward to think that she'd arranged all of this to talk to him, to Jack. And Hammond actually set this up? Unbelievable.

"Well, actually, a certain General I know managed to send out a couple fully charged ZPMs with the last supply shipment," Sam said, an unfamiliar twinkle in her eye. "'Phone home' calls were included on the packing slip. So I thought I'd phone home. Couldn't think of anyone I'd rather call."

She looked sincere. She looked so sincere and so beautiful. How he'd missed her! Had to admit, she looked stressed, tired, worried even; maybe some of that was about him. Hell, what had Daniel told her anyway?

"How are you, Jack?" Sam asked. Almost as an afterthought, she added, "I've been worried."

"Don't worry, Carter. I'm good, progressing nicely in therapy," he said, really at a loss for words as usually happened when he tried to be serious with Samantha Carter. So he lapsed back to his usual humor. "Have you heard? I have the most unusual home health aide. He's six-five, two hundred fifty pounds and has a snake thingy on his forehead. Really keeps me in line, too."

Jack was relieved to see the corners of Sam's mouth turn up slightly in a grin; he knew she was trying mightily not to laugh.

"Jack, Daniel told me about the heart attack," Sam said finally, frustration and fear leaking through her carefully measured voice. "Be serious, how are you really?"

Jack took a deep breath and a long look into the blue eyes staring intently at him, from light years away. "Okay, I'm sorry, Sam. I didn't want to worry you. Besides, the cardiologist said there's no lasting damage. I'm fine. It's nothing a little rehab won't fix."

She simply looked at him, fixing him with her gaze. It's a good thing he wasn't trying to hand her a line of bull; looking at Sam like this, he'd never be able to lie to her."

"I miss you," she said simply.

Before he could catch them, the words were out of his mouth, unbidden, "Me too."

Then she did smile. Not quite the megawatt Sam Carter smile that reached her eyes, but a sad restrained smile that reached his heart.

"I've been dreaming about you, you know," she said.

"Yep. I've been dreaming about you, too," he answered. "Is yours a nice dream?"

"Yep. Is yours?" Sam replied with a question.

"Yeahsureyabetcha …"

And words stopped. No more were really needed. Jack thought he would drown in those eyes. He saw tears glistening and ready to spill. He wanted to reach out and wipe them away. Then again they were light years apart.

It was all she needed to know, watching him watching her. Lost in each other, they sat, silent partners in the first private intergalactic 'phone home' call. His eyes held his feelings for her. Over light years, she saw and felt those feelings clearly. How she wanted to touch him, to take him in her arms right now, to reassure herself he was really on the road to recovery. Then again, they were light years apart.

"Good get well card, Sam," he said finally, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?"

"The best. Thanks," he said. "Only one thing better."

"What's that?"

"A real visit, what else? Any idea when that might happen?"

"We're thinking a week for the intergalactic bridge to reach full operating capacity," Sam replied. "Of course, Rodney insists it shouldn't take that long. But I don't see anything wrong with a little caution."

"How about you send McKay on a test run, see where he ends up?" Jack teased. "If he ends up in the right place, you can come early. If not, well, he's out of your hair."

"Jack!!"

"Hey, this is a confidential, personal call, supposed to make me feel better, right?"

"Yes."

"Then I get to say whatever will make me feel better. And I'm just starting to realize how much having you here would make me feel better." _Damn it,_ he thought, _the words keep coming out of my mouth before I can stop them. And Sam isn't shutting me down. We always had an unspoken agreement. If one of us started to slip and say something, the other would always shut it down._

Then a siren sounded and Jack could see the flashing lights behind Sam. This was the acute alarm. Immediate response required. Sam's smile faded and she'd looked suddenly older.

"Gotta go," she said.

"I know," came the usual reply.

"There's never time for us, is there?" Sam observed sadly.

Jack smirked and cocked his eyebrow, gestures Sam never missed even over light years.

"Jack, I have to go before Sheppard blows something up."

"I know."

"And Jack…"

"Yes?"

"I want there to be an 'us'."

With that, the transmission blinked out. Sam was gone.

_She wants there to be an "us". So do I, _he thought, _so do I._

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks again for reading; it's great to hear from so many of you. I know it takes time to send the reviews, they're much appreciated. 

Updates may be a bit slower now that I'm back from vacation.

Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far. Should I continue to develop both the romance and the story about baby Charlie? (That would be the long version.) Or focus simply on the Jack/Sam part of the story (the shorter version)?


	11. Chapter 11 A Lower Form of Life

_Jack's friend had advised him to begin the process of general court martial as soon as possible. After all, the Major General was technically General Francis' commanding officer; like it or not it was his responsibility._

* * *

CHAPTER 11: A LOWER FORM OF LIFE

It was a ten minute drive from the O'Neill residence to the Francis estate. Jack told his driver to set a leisurely pace. He wanted time to think.

Five years earlier, a top secret, covert branch of the Defense Department, code named Home Ops (Homeworld Operations) had been given oversight of the Stargate and Earth's expanding off-world explorations. The highest ranking officers were specially appointed by the president or his designees. The existence of Home Ops was known only to a few select politicians and the elite military officers assigned to the division. After the demise of Anubis, President Hayes had appointed George Hammond as the director of the new division. More recently, his appointment as head of Homeworld Security made Jack O'Neill Hammond's second-in-command once again. A handful of lower ranking Generals and Colonels rounded out the balance of leadership appointed to head up specialized areas of endeavor within Home Ops.

One of these leadership roles had recently been filled by General Raymond Francis, named head of Air Force Off-World Intelligence. Prior to this unorthodox assignment, the aging General had been involved in intelligence work for years, including involvement with the intrigue of Area 51. His record, while without obvious blemish, contained nothing to attract special attention or merit. As a one star General, Raymond Francis was popularly viewed as an experienced, competent military officer.

Living in a quiet southeastern suburb of Washington, Francis was one of Jack O'Neill's neighbors. The men attended some of the same social gatherings, played poker together, shared support personnel at conferences, exchanged pleasantries when necessary and sat in on some joint staff meetings. To say they were friends would be stretching it, but they were definitely acquainted outside of the work environment.

Jack had been a guest at the Francis home on two occasions since he'd transferred to Washington. He'd met the man's family, a gracious wife and three handsome, well mannered young adult children. In the quiet of his heart Jack had envied the somewhat older general. From his vantage point, Raymond Francis had somehow managed something that had eluded Jack – a successful career _and _a family.

When he'd been appointed Francis' de facto commanding officer, Jack had done his best to reserve final judgment. Still, his gut instinct told him General Francis was little more than a politically connected figure head. How he'd been promoted to his current rank was a mystery as far as Jack was concerned. A consummate military professional, the Major General couldn't for the life of him picture Raymond Francis on the battlefield or commanding troops in battle. To Jack's way of thinking, the man was audacious in bearing and arrogant in his presentation, but lacking the substance and fortitude needed for high level military leadership

In other words, Jack was grateful their professional relationship thus far had been limited. But that was about to change.

In his role as the man's commanding officer, it fell to Jack to initiate investigation of the charges against Raymond Francis, in this case fraternization with a female soldier under his command. If he were honest, the charges made Jack angry and uncomfortable. He'd certainly done his best to avoid the exact same charge during much of his last twelve years of service. As he looked back, he couldn't help but realize how his efforts to avoid any semblance of impropriety had cost him dearly.

As he prepared to inform his subordinate of the charges against him, Jack reminded himself the charges were simply that at this point, charges. _Presumed innocent until proven guilty – even in the military, that applied. _

OoOoOo

It had been two weeks since Jack's discharge from the hospital. At his insistence he'd been allowed to return from medical leave on a limited basis, allowed restricted office duty only.

Still unable to drive safely, he had agreed to accept Derrick's chauffer service once again. And given the utter destruction of the Jeep, the Towne Car was back.

As Derrick pulled the car up to the gate surrounding the Francis estate, the gate swung open, seemingly of its own accord. It was a two minute drive from the gate to the impressive circular drive in front of the main house. As Jack arrived at the front door, he was greeted by Laura Francis.

"General O'Neill, welcome," she said cordially. "It's good to see you again. It's been much too long."

"I'm glad to see you as well, Mrs. Francis," Jack answered pleasantly. "Please call the General. We have business to discuss."

"Certainly, General O'Neill," Laura Francis answered without a second thought. As a long time military wife, she'd become used to unexplained visits by her husband's work associates, visits that required discretion and some level of secrecy. She'd long ago learned to control her curiosity about her husband's business and other activities.

Jack was graciously shown to an elegantly furnished study where he waited briefly for Raymond Francis. He didn't have long to wait. After all, he'd been expected.

"Jack O'Neill!" sounded the booming voice of Raymond Francis as he neared the study. "It's been much too long! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"As I said over the phone, Raymond, I'm here to notify you of certain accusations that have been made," Jack informed him soberly.

"Alright, but let me get you a drink before we get started," Francis offered. "More civilized, don't you think?"

"No, thank you, Raymond," Jack said. "I'd prefer to get this over with as soon as possible."

"Of course, Jack," Francis said, sighing heavily and taking a seat across from his immediate superior. "I must admit I'm puzzled by the visit though. What's going on?"

"As I said, there've been accusations, Raymond …" Jack began again.

"Call me Ray, Jack," the man said, smiling engagingly. "All my friends do."

"There've been accusations against you, Raymond," Jack repeated.

"Okay, so down to business," Francis said, without further protest. Even sitting, General Raymond Francis was an imposing man. Standing he was a full six feet tall, shorter than his commanding officer, but strongly built, weighing in a good twenty pounds heavier than O'Neill. At the age of sixty, much like Jack, he worked out on a daily basis and it was evident from the way he carried himself.

"Of what am I being accused, General?" Francis enquired.

"Fraternization, Raymond. You've been accused of fraternization with an airman under your command," Jack said evenly, watching Francis as he spoke.

Raymond Francis took a deep breath and exhaled forcefully. "Is that all?" he said, getting up and walking toward the small bar. "Who's behind this, Jack?"

"A complaint's been filed by a surviving family member."

"Surviving…? What are we talking about?" General Francis asked.

"You're accused of having a relationship with Airman First Class Jessica Gilmore. Airman Gilmore died in a car accident last week."

"Really? I'm sorry about that," Raymond Francis said flatly. "She was a capable aide. But these charges, they're poppycock. I hope you understand that, Jack."

"Did you have a relationship with Jessica Gilmore?" Jack asked.

"What if I did?"

"It's a serious charge. You could loose your rank, your pension, Raymond."

"Does that make sense to you, Jack?"

"The regs are there for a reason, Raymond," Jack replied.

"Come on, Jack. Can you tell me you've never been attracted to one of those lovely female soldiers they've placed in your command over the years? How about that scientist? Samantha … Carter? Yeah, she was your second for a long time. Do you expect me to believe nothing ever happened between you two?"

Jack could feel his outrage mounting. A few more words from this man and he'd be more than ready to punch him out. It was time to get this meeting back on point and make his exit. "Raymond, these charges are about your behavior, actions that are alleged to have negatively impacted the morale, operating efficiency and discipline of the United States Air Force. And that's where the investigation will begin."

"Begin?"

"Yes, there are also allegations of abuse."

"Really? Alright, Jack, what do I do to make this go away?

"It's not going away," Jack answered calmly. "But you can cooperate with the investigation."

"You do know fraternization is seldom a court martial offense," Raymond Francis stated as fact.

"Not necessarily. As _you _know, according to the UCMJ, disposition depends on the context, pattern, prior warnings and outcomes of the indiscretion," Jack said, recalling the Uniform Code of Military Justice. "Raymond, I wanted to give you the courtesy of informing you personally of the charges against you. From here on, our meetings on this topic will occur with legal counsel present." With that Jack paused and handed Francis an official letter of notification. He said "Raymond, you're expected at a pre-trial conference in three days at my office. Bring representation. The JAG and Hammond will be present as well."

"I'll be there, Jack," Francis answered. "And believe me, I'll be prepared."

As Jack returned to the waiting Towne Car, the official inquiry had begun.

OoOoOo

Later that evening, Jack made his way to George Hammond's home. Though unannounced, he was of course, warmly welcomed. It was clear to the older man that his second needed to talk. As always, George was more than willing to listen and advise in any way he could.

"George, I swear, if the charges are founded, I'll want to strangle him myself," Jack said, his frustration overwhelming him at the end of a long day. "If it's true the man's a disgrace."

"The operative words are 'if it's true, Jack'," Hammond said. "That's what the inquiry and the adversarial process is about, to give us a better idea of the truth." Then after a pause, "What's really eating at you about this, son?"

Jack got up from his seat slowly and began to pace. "Remember when I first came on deck at Home Ops?" He saw Hammond nod and grin. "Remember the discussion the three of us had about chain of command and Carter?"

"How can I forget it Jack?" Hammond said. "You, me and President Hayes, I remember it well. I remember we almost made Francis Sam's new CO."

"Yeah, that's what I've been remembering," Jack said. "Too close for comfort, if you ask me."

"I remember we did ask you," Hammond said. "You declined the job and insisted Francis wasn't qualified to supervise Colonel Samantha Carter. Frankly, I think General Francis saw that as a snub. It's out of the ordinary that I'd take over direct supervision for field officers."

"True, but you're the only one I'd trust," Jack said, obviously still skirting the issue. "He mentioned her by name this afternoon. Implied I could understand actions he might have taken, understood because of Sam. George, I won't let him drag her name into any of this as a way to get back at me."

"You think he'll counter attack when his back's against the wall?"

"I think it's the kind of man we're dealing with, George. I need to know you've got my back."

"Count on it, Jack," came the simple, direct answer.

TBC

* * *

A/N I appreciate all of your feedback about the ongoing direction of this story. Overall, I'm hearing readers are looking forward to the full story integrating romance as well as the plot involving baby Charlie and General Francis. I'm also hearing a caveat about maintaining some level of focus on the Sam/Jack relationship throughout. If things work out, both pieces will dovetail nicely together. 

Please continue to let me know how I'm doing with that goal.


	12. Chapter 12 New Friends, New Connections

CHAPTER 12: NEW FRIENDS, NEW CONNECTIONS

On Atlantis station, the day shift had been underway for nearly an hour. Colonel Samantha Carter had arrived on the command deck long before she was expected, completing plans for what needed to be done during her brief upcoming absence. As scheduled, her second in command, John Sheppard, arrived not long after she'd completed her plans.

"Colonel, how's it coming?" Sheppard asked, more than eager for his first chance at overall station command since Colonel Carter arrived in Atlantis.

"It's under control, John. Ready to be placed in your more than capable hands," Sam replied, standing up and gesturing to the command chair.

"So it is," Sheppard said. "How long will you be gone, Colonel?"

"I'm planning two days," Sam said, still deciding what length of time she could justify. "I want to be back before McKay and medical decide to test the vaccine. If I'm needed earlier, you know how to reach me through the Gate."

"Understood, Colonel," he replied formally. Then, "Here's hoping you don't have to cut your stay short."

"You really want my job, don't you John?" Sam said, recognizing yet again the officer's ambition for advancement.

"I like being the one giving the orders, yes Ma'am," he answered. "As you've already noticed I'm not always so good at taking them."

While Sam shook her head and chuckled softly, John Sheppard reflected on his change of attitude toward his new commanding officer. It had been six months. The resentment he'd originally felt when she'd replaced Elizabeth had sabotaged their relationship from the beginning. Looking back he realized he'd been obnoxious, making it as difficult as possible for Colonel Carter to adjust to her new position. Of course, he'd long ago learned to avoid outright defiance and insubordination. Still his endless reminders of "how Dr. Weir would have done things" and "our people need to know you better before they'll trust you" hadn't exactly made her transition easier.

In spite of his less than helpful attitude, he had to admit, Samantha Carter had proven herself an able, even proficient military commander. What's more, she could handle McKay, even put him in his place when necessary. Beyond all of that, well, he owed her his life.

Sure, in the past six months Colonel Carter's decisions and technical knowledge had literally saved the city on two occasions. But the incident that rocked Sheppard's world occurred less than a month ago when Sam headed up a rescue team after an ill fated mission to a Wraith controlled world. In the end it was Sam who'd managed to penetrate the enemy's defenses, take down a force field and drag his sorry butt back to the Stargate. Needless to say, he was impressed and grateful.

"John, John," Carter called, interrupting his reverie. "Where were you just then?"

"Remembering how things have changed over the past month or so," John admitted. "I gave you a hard time when you first arrived, Colonel."

"Yes, you did, John," she admitted.

"I regret it, Colonel," he said. "As much as I'd like to be in charge, I'm glad you're here. We're fortunate to have you."

"Thanks, John," she replied, taken aback by the out of character expression of support. "That means a great deal. Now it's time to dial up the gate; there's that report I have to give in person to Home Ops."

"Yes, Ma'am".

OoOoOo

Aside from a brief phone call to inform her that the investigation was underway, Jack O'Neill had been out of contact with Christina Gilmore for over a week. Yesterday, she'd called to invite him to lunch. He'd been glad to accept.

Christina lived in an exclusive Georgetown neighborhood. Hers was a small, luxuriously furnished home that bespoke elegance and fashion. In the few months she'd been in the Washington area, she'd clearly molded the place to her own personality, whims and needs. It was the home of a prosperous, free spirit, a lady of independent means.

As he walked in and spotted the play pen and little Charlie in the middle of the living room floor, Jack couldn't help but notice how out of place a child seemed in these surroundings.

"Jack, it's a pleasure to see you again," Christina said, taking his jacket and leading him to a sofa directly in front of Charlie's play area.

"It's good to see you too, Ms. Gilmore," Jack replied.

"Please, it's Christina," she replied. "I'd like to think we can be friends. After all, you did save my grandson. And you are pursuing justice for my daughter."

"Of course, Christina," Jack acknowledged graciously. "How have you been? It must be quite an adjustment to have this little guy with you full time," he said, gesturing towards Charlie.

"It certainly is," she replied with a sigh, "an adjustment that is. I was never planning on being a mother again. It wasn't my idea the first time, and I wasn't very good at the motherhood thing, even then," she admitted. "Jessica was pretty much raised by nannies and sitters when her father was off base."

"I see," Jack said, smiling absently at little Charlie, "sounds like things were difficult for you back then."

"Not difficult really, Jack," she replied thoughtfully. "Inconvenient to any sort of modeling career, yes, but not difficult. I'm a fairly resourceful woman. I found a way to get what I wanted."

"Of course," Jack said, smiling politely now at Christina, but clearly preoccupied. He wondered what kind of life little Charlie was in for with a grandmother who probably couldn't be bothered with his needs.

Before he could entertain any more of these thoughts he heard the unfamiliar sound of a kitchen timer. _Well at least she cooks_, Jack thought, reminding himself that he didn't.

"Excuse me," Christina said, "I believe that's our lunch. I'll be sure Maria has everything under control. As his grandmother started to leave the room, Charlie, who'd been fussing, let out a loud wail, clearly less than pleased that no one had attended to him before then.

"Oh, and Jack, you wouldn't mind changing him, now would you? Supplies are right through that door," Christina said, almost as an afterthought, pointing towards her bedroom. With that, Christina escaped to the kitchen and Maria, leaving Jack perplexed to say the least.

_Okay, what was that_? He whispered half to himself, half to the screaming baby. "Guess it's you and me, little guy. It's been a long time since I've done this but I'll give it my best shot."

Without crutches, changing a baby was a fairly easy task. However in his current state, Jack needed to take it literally one step at a time. First step, like it or not, was exploring Christina's bedroom to find the diapers and other supplies he'd need. That wasn't too difficult; there was a well stocked bassinet in one corner of the room. Before he knew it he was back at the sofa with the necessary items.

Gently reaching into the play pen, Jack picked up the screaming, wiggling infant. Little Charlie, most likely surprised to finally get some attention, stopped screaming and rewarded Jack with the slightest hint of a smile. Of course that was all Jack needed. Securely seated on the sofa, he raised the little tyke over his head and start playing with him, making funny faces and silly noises. Without much delay, the baby responded in kind, squealing with delight. Happy or not, the little fellow still had a full diaper and needed a change.

"Charlie, my boy, playtime needs to wait," Jack said, continuing to smile foolishly at the baby as he laid him down on the sofa. "That diaper has got to go." And without further ado, General Jack O'Neill deftly began his task of making Charlie dry and presentable.

The clean diaper was just about in place when Jack heard his name called. "Jack, lunch is ready. Maria has set everything out for us and is on her way home for the day," Christina said as she returned to the living room to find her guest.

"And we're about ready here too, 'Grandma', Jack said in a teasing tone," looking up to meet his host's eyes. _Hmm… she doesn't look amused._

"Jack, please, you never want to call a model, retired or not, 'Grandma'. It's a fate worse than death my friend. I haven't hit fifty yet and I don't want to feel like it," she said in all seriousness.

"Point taken, Christina," Jack replied, filing the information away for future reference. "Let me finish dressing this little guy and we'll be ready for that lunch."

"Good plan, Jack," Christina said, watching her new friend closely.

Jack looked up from his completed task to find himself under scrutiny. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing. You look like such a natural is all," Christina said. "How old are your children?"

Jack looked away and swallowed hard, not ready for this conversation, here, with this woman. After a brief grimace, he said "I had a son, named Charlie. He was nine-years-old and died a long time ago."

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Christine said sincerely. "I had no idea."

"I know," Jack said quickly. "Sometimes I'm surprised how much I still miss him."

"I'm sure you were a wonderful father."

"I'm not so sure," Jack said morosely. "Could we not talk about this?"

"Good idea," Christina agreed. "Let's eat. How are you at feeding four-month-olds? Maybe you could teach me a thing or two while you're here."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for all the reviews!!! 

Please let me know what you think of this chapter. (I got to finish it early as the holiday is rainy here – can't do any yard work! Too bad, huh?)

Just press the little button.


	13. Chapter 13 Someone Special

_"Good idea," Christina agreed. "Let's eat. How are you at feeding four-month-olds? Maybe you could teach me a thing or two while you're here."_

* * *

CHAPTER 13: SOMEONE SPECIAL 

What followed was a pleasant afternoon spent over a leisurely lunch and stories of feeding babies and changing diapers, the kind of stories parents share when they get together. Hardly mother of the year, Christina recalled some of her more hysterical missteps in the care of her daughter, Jessica, in those years before she could afford a nanny. She seemed genuinely discouraged that she hadn't gotten much better over the years and grateful that Jessica had actually survived her infancy.

Jack remembered some of the times he was at home between missions long enough to get good at taking care of his own "baby Charlie". He was pleasantly surprised to find himself talking about Charlie O'Neill happily for the first time in a long time.

It was obvious Christina was out of her element with Charlie. Jack winced on more than one occasion, watching her awkward attempts to feed the baby. The strained food was the worst, with at least two unattractive plops of peaches finding their way to the well meaning grandmother's silk shirt.

Though not cut out for motherhood, Christina was clearly concerned for little Charlie's welfare. One way or another, she was determined to provide for him. Jack supposed having a nanny wasn't the worst thing that could happen to a child. Still, he figured his new friend needed at least some basic skills to care for the baby when live-in help wasn't available. With that in mind, Jack volunteered to demonstrate more effective feeding techniques, including strategies to avoid fashion disasters. Christina watched with rapt attention as he fed Charlie with near military precision, nary spilling a drop and ending up with a smiling, cooing baby.

The afternoon was the perfect illustration of "time flies when you're having fun". Before he knew where the time had gone, Jack realized he was running late for a much less pleasant date. He was expected at an early evening meeting at the Pentagon. As it was, he'd have barely enough time to get home, change clothes and arrive fashionably late. Derrick would have to step on it.

"Christina, I'm afraid I have to be going," Jack said, truly regretting bringing an enjoyable afternoon to an end. Despite his initial misgivings, Jack found Christina to be a fascinating woman and Charlie, well Charlie was quickly worming his way into the old soldier's heart. He hoped to remain a friend to both of them. What's more, he found himself more determined than ever to see the case against Raymond Francis through to its conclusion.

"If you must leave, Jack, I understand," Christina said, clearly disappointed. "And thank you for the child care lesson. I suppose it's about time I learned some of that, especially for Charlie's sake."

"I'd say that's a very good idea," Jack said, "and you're welcome."

"You think it's a good thing I've got Maria, don't you?" Christina asked. "I'm a bad excuse for a grandma, aren't I?"

"Well … let's just say without Maria, your wardrobe would be in serious jeopardy," he quipped, trying to make light of her insecurities.

Christina laughed. It was a pleasant, carefree laugh; she was able to laugh at herself. In spite of her admitted maternal shortcomings, she was trying. That made Jack smile and want to be of more help wherever he was needed. But for now, he needed to be on his way.

"I'll be in contact with you as Jessica's case develops," Jack said with an air of finality, pulling himself up on his crutches and starting to head towards the door. "The JAG investigation will be ongoing for awhile before the court martial is officially convened," Jack said. "Much of the case will hinge on your testimony, Christina."

"I know, I'll be ready," she replied. She stood up and placed Charlie back in his play pen, then walked towards the door where Jack was picking up his jacket, preparing to leave.

"And they'll need a DNA sample from Charlie for paternity testing fairly soon now," Jack added, struggling to balance crutches and get into his jacket at the same time.

"Fine, I'll do what I need to do," Christina said simply. "But Jack, I hope we can meet again without talking about Francis or his dreadful behavior toward Jessica. I'd like very much to get to know you better."

By now Christina was standing very close, her hand on Jack's arm. "Here, let me help you with that," she said softly, taking the jacket from his hands and holding it while he eased his arms in one at a time.

"Thanks," he said, finally dressed for the outdoors. "Mission accomplished." As Jack moved towards the door, he found Christina had yet to let go of the jacket she'd helped him slip on.

Slowly he turned around, effectively removing her hands from his arms and coming to face her. "Christina?" he said, her name more a statement than a question. He wasn't expecting this. His bewilderment must have shown on his face. And Christina, well, she was a bright lady; she knew she wasn't getting the reaction she expected to her fairly subtle invitation.

"You're uncomfortable. I'm sorry, Jack," she said. "I know you're not married and I thought … well. Are you seeing someone, is that it?"

Jack closed his eyes slowly and breathed deeply before answering, visions of Sam's face in his mind. "Not exactly, Christina," he said, "but there is someone special."

"Ah, that explains a great deal," she said, clearly disappointed. "I'd say she's a pretty lucky lady, whoever she is."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Christina replied, a sad look on her face. "She's got you."

"And you think that's a good thing?"

"Yes, I do," Christina supplied, "for her anyway. Not so good for me."

"I'm flattered, Christina," Jack said kindly, intent on avoiding any further conversation at this point. "Now, I really must say goodbye to you and this little fellow." Jack smiled at Christina and then carefully bent over the playpen to tickle the baby and pat his head. "I'll be in touch."

"I'll hold you to it," she said. "Bye, Jack." Christina stood by the door, wistfully watching him get into the car and pull away.

_I suppose I'll have to try a little harder, _she thought.

OoOoOo

Jack was relieved to make it to his car and start the trip home. He liked Christina, admired her independence and her spunk, even her willingness to care for Charlie to the best of her ability. Still, her interest in him was disconcerting to say the least. And Charlie, well the little guy was great and in spite of Jack's determination to avoid an emotional connection, the baby brought back memories of another child with the same name.

After the thirty minute drive to his home, Jack wanted nothing more than a hot shower, a Guinness and a Simpsons' marathon. Changing into his uniform for the after hours Pentagon meeting was so not his idea of a good time.

On his way to the shower, Jack noticed a melodic hum coming from the laptop General Hammond had given him just one week ago today. He could hope. Sam.

Sure enough, when the coded, recorded message was played, he was treated to a long look at his "Someone Special". Christina had _no_ idea; Jack O'Neill was taken alright. There was no doubt about it. The only question was what he'd choose to do about it. Right now, he decided he'd simply listen to the message.

"Jack, I'm sorry you weren't here when this came through," Sam's sturdy, yet melodic voice began. "By the time you pick this up, I'll probably be on Earth. Anyway, I'll be seeing you tonight at the Home Ops staff meeting. I'm on the agenda. Status report, projections for Atlantis station, all of that you know. See you soon."

With that the brief message ended. _I'm really not getting my memos_, he thought. _This is one meeting I actually want to attend! Go figure!_

TBC

* * *

A/N: I appreciate all of the thoughts, suggestions, reviews… Believe me, I'm taking it all into account. Please continue to share your opinions on direction and pace of the story and I'll do my best! 

Hope you continue to enjoy the story. Sam is on her way!


	14. Chapter 14 An Unpleasant Surprise

With that the brief message ended. _I'm really not getting my memos_, he thought. _This is one meeting I actually want to attend! Go figure!_

* * *

AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE

After the tragedy of 9/11, an entire section of the Pentagon had been rebuilt. As part of the rebuilding effort, a wing of the new construction had been set aside for top secret, eyes only operations, to be specific, Homeworld Operations. Entrance to this particular wing was restricted to the officers and hand picked government officials in the know regarding the Stargate and all related activities.

Jack arrived at the first check point of the secure wing already ten minutes late for the staff meeting. Making his way through the final security check, he knew Hammond and the rest of his colleagues would not be pleased. They called it military precision for a reason. But then again there would be the blue eyes of a certain Colonel. Yes, that would more than make up for Hammond's momentary disdain and his own embarrassment.

On both counts, Jack was not disappointed.

"Nice of you to join us, General," Jack's commanding officer said pleasantly enough as he approached the glass enclosed conference room.

"Sorry, Sir," Jack said, somewhat repentantly. "I lost track of time and you know, these crutches, they really slow me down."

"Jack, you were late for meetings when you were ten years younger with perfectly fine legs," Hammond replied. "Enough of that, we've got our work cut out for us tonight."

"I thought tonight was fairly routine …" Jack said, his voice trailing off as he took his first look through the glass into the meeting room. Almost immediately, a pair of blue eyes caught his attention and locked on. Sam. And her smile, soft, restrained, but he knew, just for him. He watched as she composed herself and regained her military persona, but it was enough. Then, as he scanned the other fifteen or so attendees, the other shoe dropped.

"What the hell is _he _doing here?" Jack asked indignantly. Sitting next to Sam was none other than Brigadier General Raymond Francis.

"Jack, take it easy," Hammond began, silently praying his friend would keep his reaction to himself. "I didn't have a choice."

"General," Jack persisted, gesturing for Hammond to join him around the corner out of sight of the conference room. "I told Francis he was on administrative leave until the charges were resolved. What's he doing here?"

"Orders from the four-star, my boss, Jack," Hammond said, clearly not pleased. "We've been overruled. General Francis is to retain rights, privileges and responsibilities of his rank until such time as formal court martial proceedings are convened. The man's got some powerful friends."

"That's great, that's just great," Jack said, biting his tongue and putting on his best diplomatic face. "Let's get this over with then, shall we, Sir."

"After you, Jack."

With that, Generals O'Neill and Hammond made their entrances. Those already assembled looked relieved that the meeting could finally get underway. None of the officers had great love for evening meetings, particularly those with families. Still most of the men and women nodded in Jack's direction, acknowledging his arrival. The exceptions were Raymond Francis, who seemed to make a point of totally ignoring him, and the newly arrived commander of Atlantis.

Samantha Carter had all she could do to avoid a totally unprofessional display. As it was, she was beaming in spite of her best efforts to appear somber, serious and professional. "It's good to see you again, Sir," she said calmly as Jack entered the room.

"Carter," Jack answered, with barely a glance of recognition. There was no way in Netu he was giving Francis any ammunition to use against Sam. He knew she'd be hurt, but he planned to make up for it later. "Gentlemen, ladies, my apologies for being late," he said sincerely.

"Don't do it again O'Neill," Jack's head security operative said with a light teasing tone. "Next time dinner's on you."

"Deal, Patrick," Jack said. Then, turning to Hammond, he asked rhetorically "What do you say we get this show on the road?"

"Good plan, Jack," Hammond said. "I believe we all know Colonel Samantha Carter, commander of Atlantis station. We're privileged to have her with us for a first hand account of the most recent developments in the Pegasus Galaxy."

And so the meeting got underway. It had been six months since Home Ops was treated to a first hand, in person report on the status and plans for Atlantis and all were eager to hear the latest directly from the woman who'd captured the plum assignment.

Sam began her report, acutely aware that all eyes, except those that mattered most, were on her. As she spoke, deftly running through the latest accomplishments, challenges and plans for the station, her heart focused on the cold welcome she'd received from Jack. The others, many of whom she'd never met before, had shown more enthusiasm for her arrival. What was wrong with him? She could have sworn he'd be happy to see her, especially after his note and their long distance chat. Had she totally misread him? Was it her own wishful thinking that told her he was ready to change the status quo?

Something was wrong. Sam knew it, she just didn't know what. Then again, she and Jack had worked like this, almost ignoring each other, for a long time. She could do it for another hour or so. And she did, hiding behind techno-babble and professional decorum, her eyes discretely trying their best to find his every so often, only to be disappointed time and time again.

Jack gave his best performance of carefully studying the hard copy of Sam's report as she continued her live presentation. It was one of the hardest things he'd ever done; after six months, he wanted nothing more than to look at her, feasting his eyes on every centimeter of the woman who occupied so many of his waking and sleeping thoughts. But now was so not the time. Still, he could listen to her voice …

"… overall, the past six months have been a time of expansion on the station. Granted we've had our share of challenges and continued enemy incursions. But in my opinion, we've handled them ably…" she was saying. Sam's report was coming to an end.

OoOoOo

The staff meeting was over by 2200 hours. After Carter's report, there had been the requisite question and answer period, where Sam had deftly handled informational questions as well as logistical concerns voiced by a bevy of her superior officers, including Raymond Francis. It was yet another instance where Jack was insanely proud of the officer Samantha Carter had become.

Home Ops officers had dispersed soon after the conclusion of the meeting, understandably eager to make their way home at the late hour. General Francis had been one of the first to leave the building with his entourage of aides. Jack had said his goodbyes to Hammond, resolving to pursue the issue of Francis' continued involvement on the team. Now it was time to catch up with Carter before she disappeared into the night.

And there she was, making her get-a-way through the last of the checkpoints. _Oh, no you don't _he thought. _We've waited long enough_. _We are so going to talk_.

"Carter, wait up," Jack called, hobbling behind her as fast as he could manage with the hated crutches.

"Sir, what can I do for you?" Sam said, stopping in her tracks and turning to face him. She'd become expert on reading his body language and his slightest nuanced expression. What she saw now was an anxious, almost desperate man, not at all the indifferent Major General who'd avoided eye contact all through the meeting.

"Sam, I'm sorry," he said softly. "Let's talk. I need to explain some things."

"General, I'm tired," she said, unwilling to have her hopes dashed twice in one difficult evening. "It's been a long day; I'm on my way to the hotel and probably back to the Springs in the morning. They're expecting me to return to Atlantis day after tomorrow. Do you think this could wait?"

"Sam, please …" he all but begged, willing her to hear him out.

Sam's heart responded to the sincerity of his voice. "Okay, Jack. Let's talk," she said, certain this had nothing to do with her report. "But no games, understood?"

He could face down an army of the worst the galaxy had to offer, survive nameless torture devices and unspeakable evil, but right now, in an all but abandoned top secret wing of the Pentagon, Jack O'Neill knew fear. Sam was calling the question. And finally, he knew it was time to answer.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Wow, sounds like very few readers out there like Christina very much at this point! Poor lady! 

Glad to see you're still reading. I hear that some folks think the story is dragging, so I'll do my best to get it moving!

Please continue to review. It makes all the difference and is certainly pushing me to crank out the chapters!


	15. Chapter 15 Time Out of Mind

_He could face down an army of the worst the galaxy had to offer, survive nameless torture devices and unspeakable evil, but right now, in an all but abandoned top secret wing of the Pentagon, Jack O'Neill knew fear. She was calling the question. And finally, he knew it was time to answer._

* * *

CHAPTER 15: TIME OUT OF MIND 

"How 'bout we change and get some dinner, Sam?" Jack suggested, trying his best to sound nonchalant and confident.

"Change?" Sam asked, her face a mask of confusion.

"You know, get out of these uniforms," Jack clarified. "I've got a change of clothes in my office and you've got your duffel with you. What do you say?"

Speaking of changes, Sam Carter was having a hard time keeping up with Jack O'Neill's seemingly labile mood tonight. She glanced at the standard military issue duffel she had flung over her shoulder and realized he was right, she did have a change of clothes with her and this uniform was getting uncomfortable.

"Okay, a quick dinner, but then I need to head to my hotel and get settled," she said without much enthusiasm.

She was mad. Jack knew she had every right. As far as she knew he'd mindlessly played with her feelings in front of her superiors. He'd take his punishment like a man; he only hoped she'd be willing to listen to the rest of the story. It was never easy.

It took less than ten minutes for the two to go to their separate corners and don civilian clothes. Sam emerged from the officer's locker room wearing faded jeans and a comfortable wool pullover sweater. If dinner was at anything much higher on the food chain than a family restaurant she would definitely be underdressed. And she didn't care. She wasn't in the mood for fancy or high fashion. And if Major General Jonathan O'Neill was, he could damn well go alone.

She needn't have worried. When Jack returned to the abandoned conference area, he was dressed as casually as Sam. Oversized Dockers, a snug fitting black tee and a gently worn leather jacket rounded out Jack's outfit of choice, one that reminded Sam of the man behind the uniform. Maybe this would be okay after all. _Just maybe_, she thought.

"So where are we going?" she asked.

"Michelini's," Jack said, "best pizza in town. Okay?"

"Sure," she answered curtly, still unsure where this all was going. Jack was pleasantly surprised that Sam seemed willing to go to the first place he mentioned. Maybe she was relenting a little.

Jack sent Derrick home early with the Towne Car and opted to call a cab. He didn't want the well meaning young airman to overhear their conversation on the way to the restaurant. This not being able to drive was really getting old. Jack was eagerly awaiting his follow up medical appointments where he would insist on being given the green light to resume normal activities. But for now this would have to do. On the bright side, he could concentrate on Sam and not on his driving.

"I thought you had a driver," Sam commented as they got in the cab. "In fact, I thought Teal'c was filling that role for awhile."

"He was," Jack said. "But now I'm back to work, at least part-time, it's back to good old Derrick. Anyway, Teal'c did have somewhat more pressing matters to take care of before he returns to the Jaffa council. In case you haven't notice, I no longer require a private duty nurse."

This statement earned him a pleasant smile. "I'm glad you're getting better. What are the doctors saying about your heart?"

"Oh, that," Jack said, hoping she would have forgotten about the invisible impairment. "I have the follow-up appointment soon. Maybe tomorrow, in fact," he said, his voice tentative and not exactly certain.

"Jack, this is important," Sam said, suddenly sounding concerned and irritable. "You do know when the appointment is, right?"

"It's at home, Sam. I'll look it up after dinner, don't worry," he soothed.

"Well, I do worry," she said. "Even if it's not my place, I worry, Jack."

"Listen, Sam, I'm sorry about tonight," Jack said, realizing it was now or never. "I was looking forward to seeing you and I know I went and ruined it. There was a good reason and I'll tell you about it tonight."

"A good reason to ignore me?"

"A reason anyway," Jack replied. "Ignoring you was the last thing I wanted to do. Trust me, please. I'm very glad you're here. It's been way too long," he said, taking her hand in his and watching her intently. He could only hope she wouldn't lay him out.

Truth was punching him was the farthest thought from Sam's mind right about now.

"Much too long, Jack," she said. "And I don't want to waste time being angry with you. Sam reached out with her other hand and took his between both of hers. "I meant what I said, Jack O'Neill. I want there to be an 'us'," she whispered.

"Me too, Sam," he said, swallowing hard with the admission. "Whatever happens from here on, promise you'll believe that."

OoOoOo

Raymond Francis arrived home shortly after 2300 hours. His wife, Laura, had stopped waiting up for him years ago and his grown children spent as little time as possible at the estate. So it was that after parting with his highly paid team of advisors, the Brigadier General entered an empty house.

No matter, he still had business to negotiate tonight. His highly placed benefactor had done only part of his job as far as he was concerned. Yes, he'd maintained his position of influence at Home Ops for the time being with access to the latest information. But what he really wanted was assurance the charges themselves would disappear. It had happened before. He failed to see the difference this time around. After all, his benefactor had no choice to speak of in the matter. Francis had the man by the short hairs of his head.

All that was needed was to call and remind him of the situation. Pouring himself a short glass of scotch, Francis proceeded to do just that. Despite his special clearance, the call took a moment to ring through, always infuriating to a man like Francis, who demanded special attention and deference.

"It's me," he began. "The meeting ended about thirty minutes ago. Carter's report was compelling to say the least. I'm glad I was there and I owe it all to you," he said, knowing these statements of false gratitude goaded his benefactor.

"It does seem that way, Ray," the other man said, fatigue clear in his voice. "What is it you want now?"

"Relief. I want relief from the incessant pressure of this foolish investigation. They're asking me, no ordering me, to present myself for DNA testing tomorrow morning," General Francis complained. "It's humiliating and I don't intend to subject myself to that indignity."

"Ray, I'm advising you to follow the recommendations of the JAG," said the voice on the other end of the line. "If you don't comply, they may very well take you into custody until the conclusion of the investigation. And I know you don't want that."

"And I won't have that because you are going to make this go away," Francis said unpleasantly.

"No, that isn't going to happen, Ray," was the unexpected reply.

"Really? Francis questioned rhetorically. "Have you forgotten what I have on you, _Sir?"_

"Not for a minute, Ray," was the answer. "The problem here is you've forgotten or don't know who you're dealing with this time. No one bribes Jack O'Neill."

"Then find a way to get rid of him," Francis said. "You and I know there is always a way."

"Perhaps," the man answered. "But it won't come from this office or from anyone on my staff."

"If you stick to that decision, it will cost you dearly, old _friend_," Francis all but hissed.

"I'm sure it will, Ray," the beleaguered man replied. Then, snorting derisively, "You know, when you use the word friend, it sounds dirty. I'm getting very tired of being part of your dirty little game, Ray."

"Remember the price of getting out before you do something foolish," Francis responded, a sliver of panic beginning to eat at his gut.

"Don't kill the fatted calf, Ray. Believe me, you'll be the one to regret it if you do," was the cold reply.

OoOoOo

It was a thirty minute ride to Michelini's. Having spent her share of time in the Washington area, Sam was acutely aware the cab was taking them quite far from her hotel. Actually, from what she recalled, they were fairly close to Jack's home. She'd been so intent on Jack and the newfound experience of handholding that she just now realized this would make for a very long ride back to her hotel. Oh well. Secretly, she hoped to find alternate accommodations.

It was 2330 when the pair exited the cab and sent it on its way. Michelini's was a small, hole-in-the-wall, family pizza parlor in a pleasant outdoor suburban mall. It was, however, the middle of the week and far past closing time.

"Jack, I don't think they're open," Sam said as they walked up to the small, darkened entrance.

"They've open," Jack said confidently. "Just for us, but they're open."

Sure enough, one knock on the door and an older man who appeared to be the owner, opened the door and welcomed Jack as though he were a long lost relative. Sam, however, had it on good authority that Jack O'Neill was _not_ Italian.

"Jack, come on in! We haven't seen you in an age," Mario Michelini said, calling for his wife, Angelina. "Angie, stop with those dishes. Jack's here; come and say hello."

Before long Angie appeared, a fairly plump, smiling woman in her sixties, wiping her wet hands on her apron and coming up to give Jack a warm embrace of welcome. Not far behind was her teenaged grandson, Jerry, who was staying over to help out.

"Welcome, Jack! I was so happy when Mario said you'd called," she said. "And who is your lovely lady friend?"

Never one to be overly shy, Sam blushed in spite of herself, while Jack beamed proudly. _If only_, he thought.

"This is my friend, Sam," he introduced her. "Sam I'd like you to meet the Michelinis. Their pizza has been one of my favorite sources of nutrition since I've moved to our nation's capital."

"We are honored to meet you, Sam," Mario replied. "You must both be very hungry. I've taken the liberty of preparing your favorite antipasto, Jack. Come on, both of you, that little booth in the back, perfect. Start with antipasto and we'll put the pizza in the oven. Good?"

"Sam?" Jack deferred.

"Sounds good, Mr. Michelini," Sam said.

"Mario, lovely lady," he said. "Please call me Mario."

Sam couldn't help but catch the conspiratorial wink Mario flashed Jack O'Neill as they settled in a very cozy booth at the farthest end of the small restaurant. "Looks like those two would do just about anything for you, Jack," she said. "What's up?"

"People like me," Jack said with his usual shrug. "Go figure."

Sam did figure. Jack was easy to like. Unassuming, down to earth, just one of the folk, she wouldn't be surprised if the Michelinis had no idea of his high profile job, or even his military rank. He was one of them when he was at their restaurant, so much so, they'd stay open just for him.

"You are easy to like, Jack. In spite of everything, very easy, at least for me," she said.

"Good," Jack replied, oh so relieved that she still as least _liked_ him. "Sam, much as I'd like to talk more about how likeable I am, I have to tell you what was going on tonight."

"I'm listening," she replied, ready for whatever was to come.

"It's about General Francis. I've just opened an investigation into charges of fraternization."

"So that's why _he_ totally ignored _you_. Not very pleasant, is it," she said more than asked, realizing how difficult parts of this job were for him.

"No, but having him at the meeting tonight, well, it was unexpected to say the least. I'd put him on leave pending the outcome of the investigation. A higher up countermanded the order."

"That's strange, Jack, but there's something else isn't there?"

"Sam, I might be paranoid, but I've never trusted the man. He's the type who'd do anything it takes to save his own neck, including doing his best to bring someone else down with him."

"So …"

"He mentioned you and me during our first conversation about the charges against him. He implied something was going on, something that might make me as guilty as him."

Sam sighed deeply, running a hand through her hair. "Jack, we both know, nothing happened. Ever..."

"Yep, we do, don't we, Sam," he replied, regret evident in his voice. "It doesn't mean he couldn't imply something, make your life difficult. I'm not about to let that happen."

Sam got up from her seat across the table from Jack. She slid in beside him on his side of the booth and looked directly at him. "We don't have any control over what someone like Francis chooses to do, Jack."

"I don't want anything to tarnish what you've accomplished, Sam. Understand?"

"You want to protect my reputation?"

"Well, yeah …"

Sam smiled. She'd matured quite a bit over the past few years. Instead of launching into a feminist rant, she said simply, "Thank you, Jack. But you know I can take care of myself. Besides, you're not my commanding officer anymore."

"No, I'm not, am I," Jack said, as he looked up to see the Michelinis' grandson grinning at them from the doorway where he was busy mopping the floor.

Sam followed his eyes and asked, "What do you suppose he's thinking?"

"He's thinking I'm old enough to be your father and you're taking me out for the night," he said, only half teasing.

What happened next was likely a result of Sam's general exhaustion and the fact she was sitting so close to Jack. Her heart jumped to action before her rational, practical mind could interfere. And her heart pushed her to kiss Jack O'Neill. Spontaneously, without conscious thought and with great tenderness, she moved closer still, placed one hand behind his head and pulled him closer to her, before capturing his willing lips with her own. When the first kiss she remembered was over, she pulled back and asked a startled, but smiling older man, "What do you think the kid's thinking now?"

"That I'm the luckiest old guy he's ever seen."

And then Jack returned the favor.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked this one. Changes and intrigue to come. 

Please review.


	16. Chapter 16 Moments of Truth

_When the first kiss she remembered was over, she pulled back and asked a startled, but smiling Jack O'Neill, "What do you think he's thinking now?"_

"_That I'm the luckiest old guy he's ever seen."_

* * *

CHAPTER 16: MOMENTS OF TRUTH 

Jack and Sam enjoyed the relative privacy of the tiny pizza parlor for the next two hours. Talking, laughing, smiling at each other and occasionally eating pizza, the time passed quickly. Only when Mario offered to let Jack lock up for him did the two come to their senses and realize it was more than time to leave.

"Holy Hannah, look at the time, Sir," Sam said, startled and reverting to old habits. "It's a long cab ride back to my hotel. I haven't even checked in yet."

Jack had blithely forgotten Sam wasn't planning to stay with him. "What?" he asked. "Sam, my place is literally down the street. Come on home with me, I promise I'll behave. Besides, it'll give us more time to talk, right?"

Sam looked at Jack quizzically for a moment before attempting a reply. "Just down the street, huh? If I didn't know you better, I'd say this was a set up."

"Who? Me? Nah, a coincidence, that's all," he answered with the roguish smile she loved.

"You win, I'm coming home with you, as a friend mind you," she said, her smile belying the seriousness of her voice.

"Sweet," he replied, earning him a gentle punch in the biceps.

"Hey, I'm an injured man, don't forget," Jack reminded her, thinking for a second these pathetic crutches served a purpose after all.

Once they'd said goodbye to Angie, Mario and Jerry, Jack hailed a cab for the short run back to his home. Between the crutches and the chill of the mid December night, walking was not an option. In fact, as they finally settled into their second cab of the evening, Jack caught Sam shivering.

"You don't have winter in Atlantis, do you, Colonel?"

"No, General. As you know, we are climate controlled and freezing to death is not a desired state of affairs," she said holding her arms tightly crossed in front of her.

"Been there, done that," Jack said as he began to slip out of his jacket. "Can't say as I like it much either, Carter." By now he'd removed his jacket and was slipping it over her shoulders. "Here, put this on, we'll be home in a few minutes and I'll start a fire."

Sam simply looked at him as she slipped into the soft, well worn leather. The scent, the feel reminded her so clearly of its owner. All of this, going home with Jack, wearing his clothes, the thought of sitting in front of a roaring fire, it was all so right, so natural.

The pair arrived at Jack's modest suburban home shortly after leaving Michelini's. His house was part of a recent development, nicely laid out and landscaped, but nothing fancy. It reminded Sam of his home in the Springs. It was definitely a bachelor pad, dark wood, minimal decorations and the housekeeping left a bit to be desired. Then there were the Jack O'Neill touches she couldn't help but notice, even in the dark. The telescope on the roof, the pond out the back sliding glass doors and the old fashioned wood burning fireplace, were reminders that the Jack O'Neill she knew, and yes, loved, lived here.

Before she knew it, Jack had a fire going in the fireplace and a cup of hot cocoa in her hands.

"Okay, this chenille throw ought to help warm you up too," he said coming over to the sofa where she sat and starting to wrap the throw around her shoulders.

"I know something else that could warm me up, Jack," she said innocently, grabbing hold of the unsuspecting hand that proffered the afghan. "Come on, sit down with me, I won't bite."

Jack followed Sam's suggestion and joined her on the sofa. She immediately snuggled closer to him and spread the throw over the two of them.

"This is nice, Sam," he said. "Glad I thought of it."

She looked up at him, her eyes dancing and stifled a giggle. "Yes it is, Jack, no matter whose idea it was," she said, just before her head found his shoulder and her eyes fixed on the fire. Jack's arm found its way around the lovely lady sitting by him. It felt right.

"What took us so long, Sam?" he asked softly, staring straight ahead at the fire.

"Fear, at least for me," Sam answered. "I didn't know for sure what you wanted. If you wanted me," she said. "And I didn't want to be hurt."

"And I didn't want to hurt you," Jack answered. "I still don't."

"I know, Jack," Sam said, squeezing the hand she held in hers. "In case you haven't noticed, you're not my commanding officer anymore."

"There's that," he agreed, wishing that had been the only thing holding him back. "But Sam, there are other things too."

Sam knew Jack O'Neill well enough to recognize the calm before the storm. Her fight for what she wanted wasn't over, it was just beginning. She'd known in her heart for a long time that people like Raymond Francis and roadblocks like Air Force regulations weren't the only things keeping them apart.

"Sam, I'm no prize," Jack said, turning to face her and willing her to turn towards him. "I'm a good fifteen years older than you, at the end of my career, with bum legs and God knows what wrong with my heart. And my head, I've been three fries short of a happy meal for awhile." With that lame attempt at humor, Jack stopped to gauge Sam's reaction.

Well, she certainly wasn't laughing. Her eyes were watching him intently, waiting on his next words. If only he knew what to say.

"And …" she prompted.

"I've always thought you deserved better, Sam," Jack said, feeling himself pull back both physically and emotionally. He knew he was pushing her away, but he couldn't help himself. "You deserve the best. Hell, you're a national treasure."

"You self-pitying, foolish son-of-a-bitch! How dare you decide what's good for me!" Sam accused, bolting up from the sofa and sending the throw flying. "So this is why nothing's changed between us? Because you think I deserve better? Damn it, Jack!"

With that Sam Carter walked over to the sliding glass doors, opened them and walked out onto the patio. Minutes later, Jack O'Neill followed her.

"If we're going to be together, you'll have to get used to me apologizing a lot, Sam," Jack said, standing at her side and matching her gaze at the fishless pond. "In case you haven't noticed I'm not very good at the relationship thing."

Sam turned to meet his sincere, almost pleading eyes with her own. Taking his face in her hands, she held on tenderly and said, "In case you haven't noticed, I love you. I think about you every day, I dream about you at night. I feel when you're hurt or in trouble. I'm not getting any younger either, Jack. I think its decision time for both of us."

Jack was silent for a long while. His right hand had come up to caress Sam's cheek while his left gently caught the tears that had finally spilled over her lids. She'd been trying so hard not to cry. Sam Carter didn't cry, at least not when she could help it. But tonight was one of those times when all bets were off.

"Sam, please don't cry."

"Then stop it," she said simply.

"Stop what?" he asked, wondering why he was confused even when she wasn't speaking techno-babble.

"Stop putting down the man I love. Stop pulling away from me. If there's a chance we can be together, I need to know."

"Sam," Jack paused, unsure of what to say that would be fair to the woman he loved more than anything. He could see a thread of fear in Sam's eyes, something he'd rarely seen from his Colonel. She was afraid he'd walk away. "Sam, I love you," he said finally. "There, I've said it. If I'm what you want, I'll consider myself the luckiest man in the world for the rest of my life." As he stopped talking, he knew he was holding his breath. For the first time in a long while, Jack O'Neill had given someone control of his heart. Sam Carter had more power to break it than any physical stressor, clot or medical condition ever could.

Sam's tears continued, but the smile that began at her lips was slowly reaching her eyes. "Then we're going to be okay. You're exactly what I want, Jack," she said.

With that, the new couple went back inside. They stayed up talking for hours and fell asleep in each other's arms.

OoOoOo

When Jack opened his eyes, there was sunlight streaming through the windows. The sun shone off the blond head that lay cradled on his lap. Now he remembered, Sam. It was real; it wasn't a dream. She was here and she loved him.

Before he could fully wrap his mind around that concept, the doorbell rang. _Who in the world…,_ he wondered. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was nearly noon. Madelaine had probably sent out the posse again.

Jack attempted to get up off the sofa without waking Sam but was unsuccessful.

"Hey, I'll just see who's at the door and make them go away," he said in response to Sam's questioning look. "Be right back."

Navigating slowly to the door, crutches in hand, wearing the same rumpled clothes from the night before, Jack opened the door, expecting to find a young airman on reconnaissance duty.

"Hi, Jack, I was in the neighborhood," a woman's voice said. Christina stood on his porch with little Charlie in his stroller.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm delighted so many people are still reading. Love to hear from you, please review. 


	17. Chapter 17 Complications

A/N: Just a reminder, in Ancient, "frond" means head or so I remember. My Ancient may be a little rusty!

* * *

Last time:"_Hi, Jack, I was in the neighborhood," a woman's voice said. Christina stood on his porch with little Charlie in his stroller._ _

* * *

_CHAPTER 17: COMPLICATIONS 

Dressed in a designer three-quarter length black jacket with a fur lined hood, a relatively short skirt and fashionable leather boots that accented her long, shapely legs, Christina Gilmore certainly did not look the part of grandmother. That thought popped unbidden into Jack O'Neill's "frond" as he opened the front door.

"Christina," Jack said, taken aback by her unexpected visit. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Well I was driving by, thought about saying hello," she said. "It occurred to me that it was a work day, but I thought I'd try my luck. And the Towne Car was out there… so…"

"So, here you are," he said. By then, Sam had pulled herself sleepily to the door and found herself standing bleary eyed behind Jack.

"Jack?" she said simply.

"Morning, Sam," Jack said, turning around and flashing a helpless smile in her direction. "Sam, this is Christina. You remember, I told you about her last night." Sam nodded slightly in the other woman's direction, taking note of the baby in the stroller as she did so. "Christina, this is Sam Carter," Jack said. "Come on in, it's cold out there. You'll have to forgive us; we got in late last night."

Christina entered, a bit sheepishly, pushing Charlie's stroller ahead of her. This was hardly what she was expecting. Jack with another woman, waking up at noon, both in rumpled clothes, obviously from last night. _Go with the flow_, she thought.

"I'll make coffee, ladies," Jack volunteered, disappearing into the kitchen and followed by a withering look from Sam. "Be back soon."

"So Jack told you about me, did he?" Christina began as she took Charlie out of his stroller and decided to talk with the woman she assumed was her main competition.

"Yes, he told me about the accident and how your daughter was killed," Sam said, her voice uncertain, but laced nonetheless with compassion for the woman. "And he told me about little Charlie," she added, smiling at the small child in his grandmother's arms. "How is the baby?'

"Charlie's doing well, largely thanks to Jack's heroics that night," Christina volunteered. "General O'Neill is an exceptional man in many ways."

"Yes, he is," Sam said. She could feel her hackles rising at the predatory tone she heard from her elegantly dressed new acquaintance.

"Coffee's brewing," Jack said, coming to the rescue. "Did I hear something about my being exceptional?"

"I was just telling Sam how highly I think of you," Christina said.

_This is certainly awkward_, Jack thought. _I'm glad I warned Sam about Christina. Never thought she'd see for herself quite this soon. _

"Well, Christina, there's not a lot you can tell Sam about me that she doesn't already know," Jack said.

"How so?" Christina asked.

"Jack and I have worked together a little more than ten years," Sam decided to answer. "Besides we're _very_ close friends."

With that, Jack reached over and squeezed Sam's hand, a gesture Christina couldn't help but catch. Sam smiled in return and offered a reassuring squeeze of her own.

"Jack, I think I'll go to the kitchen and bring out the coffee," Sam said. "The two, no three of you," she added, smiling warmly at the squirming baby, "can have a little visit. I'll be right back."

Once Sam left the living room, Christina inquired, "I'm thinking Sam's your 'someone special'."

"You would be right," Jack answered simply.

"I should be going, shouldn't I?" she asked. Even the determined, self assured ad exec was beginning to think it was game over.

"You're here, Christina," Jack said. "No reason not to stay and have some coffee. Sam might even find some food out there if she looks hard enough. Besides, I need to snuggle with my favorite four-month-old," he said, reaching down to pick up Charlie.

"You know Jack, I really was in the neighborhood," Christina said. "I stopped by to see General Francis earlier this morning."

"You what?"

"I want him to know who he's dealing with in this matter," she said.

"Why?" Jack asked, truly perplexed.

"I want him to know I'm not a young airman impressed by his rank and hoping for advancement. I want him to know all I need from him is justice, and nothing less will satisfy me," Christina explained, her voice that of someone on a resolute mission.

"Christina, that _so_ wasn't a good idea," Jack replied, trying to restrain his irritation. "The investigation is underway and the last thing we need is Francis having free access to the main witness against him."

"So you're saying to steer clear of him?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

At that moment, Sam returned with the coffee. By now Charlie had found his way into Jack's arms and was held securely against his chest, even as Jack talked animatedly with Christina. Jack holding the baby was the first sight that met Sam's eyes as she returned to the room. And it stopped her in her tracks. It looked so natural. It was as though Jack O'Neill had been meant to be a father all his life. Was it possible he shared more with Christina than he'd been willing to admit last night?

"Here we are," she said, handing Christina a cup of coffee and turning to Jack. She had to admit, this scenario was making her uncomfortable. "I feel like I'm interrupting something here," Sam said, deciding to put her cards on the table.

"No Sam, not at all," Jack said immediately. "We're talking about the court martial." Then to Christina, he added, almost as an afterthought, "Sam knows about the pending case, Christina."

"I understand," she said. "Once the news breaks, none of this is going to be very hush- hush. And it's that poor excuse for an officer who'll pay." Then to Sam, she added, "Jack was warning me to steer clear of General Francis."

"I see," Sam said, suddenly aware that the man she loved, this very lovely lady and an undeniably cute baby would probably be spending a significant amount of time together in the near future because of General Francis. She wasn't at all sure she liked that.

"Do you have any idea when the hearing itself will get underway?" Sam asked.

"It may be some time, depending on how long it takes the JAG office to complete the investigation," Jack said.

"They contacted me this morning," Christina said, "requested I bring Charlie in to provide a DNA sample."

"So it's underway. I doubt Raymond Francis is pleased," Jack said. "That's one reason I'd rather you stay away from him."

"So I will, at least for the time being," Christina relented.

OoOoOo

Nearly an hour later, Christina departed with little Charlie. To Sam's surprise, the hour passed pleasantly enough, Christina showing polite interest in Sam's military experiences and interests. Still Sam had her concerns. And she decided that if her fledging relationship with Jack was to survive at all, she had to speak them aloud, sooner, rather than later.

"Should I be worried?" Sam asked gesturing toward the door Christina had just closed.

"No, not unless I have a brain attack to go along with the heart attack," Jack said, only half joking.

"Funny," Sam said with a clearly forced smile. "Could you be serious for a minute, Jack?"

"You want serious? Okay. Remember Kerry?" he replied.

"Remember? How could I forget?" she answered, not quite wanting to know how Jack was relating the two women.

"The same way I could forget Pete?" Jack replied, regretting the stinging words as soon as they were out of his mouth.

"Point taken, Jack," she said, blushing furiously and choosing not to dwell on the hurt. "But what has Kerry to do with Christina?"

"Everything," Jack said simply. "The day you came to see me and Kerry was there, I wanted to crawl under a rock. When I saw the pain in your eyes, I would have done anything to take it away."

Sam looked at him earnestly, her eyes beginning to tear, her head nodding slowly.

"Like when I hurt you with Pete. I've wished so many times I could take it back."

"I know," Jack said. "But what I'm getting at is I'll never put you in that position again, Sam. You're the only one I want. I don't think it'll take Christina that long to figure it out."

OoOoOo

On Atlantis, Col. John Sheppard was nearing the end of his first twenty-four hours without his new commanding officer on site. And he had to admit, he enjoyed being "the man".

"Colonel Sheppard, you have a call," a young airman, on her first tour in Atlantis, announced.

"A call? Could you be a bit more specific airman?" Sheppard requested. He realized patience was not his best quality.

"Yes, Sir," the airman replied, clearly flustered. "It's from Earth; he says he's your old CO."

_Aw, everything was going so well_, he thought. _Who could this be? What old CO? It's not like I'm in the next town to shoot the breeze. _It was times like this John Sheppard thought lack of communication with Earth had been a good thing. There was something exciting and freeing about being out here, totally on your own, no one looking over your shoulder.

As he approached the monitor, John was greeted with a coded message alert. When it unscrambled, he was met by the smiling face of an old CO he'd hoped never to see again, General Raymond Francis.

TBC

A/N: Continued thanks for all of your support, thoughts, reactions to this one.


	18. Chapter 18 Treachery

_As he approached the monitor, John was greeted with a coded message alert. When it unscrambled, he was met by the smiling face of an old CO he'd hoped never to see again, General Raymond Francis._

* * *

CHAPTER 18: TREACHERY

"John, you're looking good …and damned important if I do say so," General Francis greeted his former aide.

"Thank you, General," John answered, clearly puzzled to hear from the man. "It's been a long time. To what do I owe the honor, Sir?"

"John, I'll get right to the point," Francis said. "I heard you're in command of Atlantis right now."

"I'm filling in for Colonel Carter for a couple days, General," John said. "Once she gets back I'm returning to the field. What can I do for you, Sir?"

"Actually John, it's about what I can do for you," Francis clarified. "You see, I believe Atlantis is in danger."

"General, Atlantis is often in danger. Are you aware of a specific threat?" Sheppard asked, uncomfortably reminded of the man's penchant for deception.

"John, seems you haven't changed all that much, still a bit insubordinate, aren't you?" Francis came back at the younger officer.

"Just a bit, General," John said, struggling to remember his place. "You know me."

"Yes I do, John. That's why I'm hoping you can provide me with some information about the performance of your new CO."

"Colonel Carter? Why are you asking me, Sir?"

"I trust your opinion, John. You're a fine officer and I know you'll do the right thing."

John Sheppard recalled his past association with General Francis. The man was a master manipulator.

"Sir, you mentioned a danger to Atlantis. What information do you have? Have you spoken with Colonel Carter about it?"

"John, my intelligence sources tell me Colonel Carter _is_ the danger."

John sat back and silently stared at the screen. _What is he up to?_

"General, what is it you want me to do?" John asked, keeping his voice as even as possible. He would need to listen carefully.

OoOoOo

John Sheppard was a green young Lieutenant fresh from the Air Force Academy when first assigned to Colonel Raymond Francis' command. The brash, often rebellious Sheppard thought he'd found a kindred spirit in the aging Colonel, a man who often appeared to disregard protocol in favor of gut instinct. Ten years ago, he'd admired that trait and the defiant self-confidence it seemed to exude.

Looking back, John recalled his duty under Francis' command. He'd spent the year as a low level intelligence liaison. It was hardly the challenge he'd anticipated. Worse yet, his skills as a top notch pilot had been all but ignored, called upon occasionally to fly the higher ups to meetings, but not much else.

Still, it was clear the Colonel had taken an interest in him. Raymond Francis had been uncommonly friendly for a superior officer, inviting John to his home on many occasions and engaging in conversation around the best strategies for advancement. He'd promised on many occasions to secure the young officer a flying assignment once he'd served out his year's duty in his largely desk bound command.

For a man with a rather pedestrian command, Colonel Francis certainly had his connections, right from the start, as far as Sheppard could see. His office wanted for nothing. Most often, when Francis voiced an opinion heads rolled or other desired changes came to pass. Since the man didn't strike John as a bona fide leader, he couldn't help but wonder how the Colonel always managed to come out on top.

Near the end of his tour with Francis, John found out the real cost of the man's favor.

Francis came to him one night ordering him to conduct an "unofficial" investigation of a young airman, Stanley Osterhouse. John's CO said Osterhouse was suspected of passing information to terrorist sympathizers. The accusation had infuriated the young Sheppard; the thought of Air Force personnel conspiring with the enemy was unthinkable to him.

He'd pursued the investigation with all due diligence and then some. His efforts seemed to pay off. From what he could tell, Airman Osterhouse was up to his neck in compromising situations, with enough evidence to make any JAG officer grin from ear to ear. It was almost too easy.

Francis had been pleased. He'd initiated court martial charges against Airman Osterhouse almost immediately. Just as immediately, the charges had disappeared. Within a week, Stanley Osterhouse was dead, reportedly by his own hand.

OoOoOo

General Francis' allegations against Colonel Carter were déjà vu. John Sheppard had been in this position with Raymond Francis before, the position of trusted confidant, set up to handle sensitive information. When he was too young, too inexperienced to know better, John Sheppard had been set against a fellow soldier and had run him into the ground. It had been a full year before he got an inkling of what was really behind the Osterhouse case. He'd heard rumors, ugly rumors about Raymond Francis and his alleged involvement with Stanley Osterhouse's wife, a civilian clerk in his office. Would Francis really have manufactured evidence against the man?

And now? Colonel Samantha Carter, a traitor? Sure John wanted her command, but this? No, this was not the way he wanted to get it. More importantly, experience made him question his old CO's motivation. What was he up to? At the same time, if there was a credible threat to Atlantis, he couldn't afford to ignore the warning.

Concerned and confused, John decided to talk with the one man currently on Atlantis who knew Samantha Carter better than anyone – Dr. Daniel Jackson.

TBC

* * *

A/N: This was a tough chapter to pull together. I feel as though I have three stories I want to tell at once. So please be patient as I add yet a bit more background for the original characters.

Your continued interest in this story makes it all the more interesting and FUN for me to write. Thanks so much!!!


	19. Chapter 19 Motherhood & Apple Pie

From Chapter 15: "_I'm glad you're getting better. What are the doctors saying about your heart?"_

"_Oh, that," Jack said, hoping she would have forgotten about the invisible impairment. "I have the follow-up appointment soon. Maybe tomorrow, in fact," he said, his voice tentative and not exactly certain._

"_Jack, this is important," Sam said, suddenly sounding concerned and irritable. "You do know when the appointment is, right?"_

"_It's at home, Sam. I'll look it up after dinner, don't worry," he soothed._

* * *

CHAPTER 19: MOTHERHOOD AND APPLE PIE – OR NOT 

Meanwhile, at Jack's house …

"Jack, when was that doctor's appointment?" Sam asked. "It's nearly 1330 hours. You better not have missed it."

"Didn't know you were such a stickler for details, Carter," he said with a teasing voice.

"Well," she persisted, "when's your appointment?"

"Ah … I think 1430 or 1500 hours, not sure …" he said.

"Jack, what do you think you're doing?" Sam said, stopping what she was doing to walk up directly in front of his face.

"Hey, far as I'm concerned, this is a special day. It's like vacation. No one goes to the doctor on vacation," he protested, with the innocence of a young boy.

"Vacation?"

"Yeah, you're here," he said, the twinkle in his eye almost irresistible. "That's makes it vacation for me." With that, Jack reached out, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Sam pulled back all too soon and fixed him with an irritated, determined glare. Well that wasn't the reaction he expected.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked, not sure he wanted the answer.

"What do you think is wrong, Jack? For crying out loud, you had a heart attack and you're blowing off your doctor's visit," she said, puzzled as she saw his face break into a smirk. "What?" she all but screamed, not at all amused that he found something funny in all of this.

Jack cleared his throat and thought carefully before responding. "Spending a little too much time with Jack O'Neill, are you, Sam?"

In spite of herself, Sam began to chuckle, realizing she'd used one of Jack's trademark expressions. _Oh yeah, he's growing on me, alright_, she thought. _And I want him to keep right on doing it._

"Come on, Jack," she said, "I'll drive. We're going to the doctor's."

Jack, a smart man in his own right, knew better than to argue.

Thirty minutes later, Jack and Sam sat in the cardiology waiting room. This was _so_ not Jack's idea of a romantic day with the woman he loved. After all, Sam was due to leave for Colorado Springs tonight. He could think of many ways he'd like to spend this time. Being poked and prodded at a doctor's office was not one of them. But Sam wasn't hearing it. Jack knew she insisted on keeping the appointment out of her concern for him. Truth be told, he loved her all the more for it.

"Okay, so after I get the green light from the heart doctor, what do you say we plan a nice dinner before you have to head out," Jack said.

"Didn't you say you're due at the orthopedist right after this appointment?"

"Why do you listen so closely to everything I say?"

"Because I love you, Jack," she crooned, hoping there'd be no protest to that statement.

"So that's why you're acting like my mother?" he teased.

"Jack, I am not trying to be your mother," she said indignantly.

"I know, I know," Jack soothed. "Someday you'll be a great mother, Sam," he said, intending this as a sincere compliment. Imagine his surprise when instead of the sparkling smile he was expecting, Sam looked away and fell silent. Fortunately for Jack, he was unable to see the tears that welled up in her eyes.

oOoOoO

In the Gilmore household, it was Maria's night off. In two short weeks, the nanny had become indispensable to Christina. The very night she'd learned about Jessica's accident and the baby's survival, the retired model had hired Maria. It never occurred to Christina not to take Charlie as her own. At the same time, she couldn't fathom doing motherhood without help.

From her point of view, having to give the nanny a night off was unfortunate. The past few nights Charlie had been uncommonly fussy. Maria had told her it was most likely colic. Christina recalled the word from her experience with Jessica. Even then, whenever possible, she'd left the direct childcare to someone else, most often her husband, Charles. For tonight at least, it seemed she was on her own. _This is an experience for the young, or at least the very brave,_ she thought. _How do mothers do this?_

"Shh, sweetheart, come on now," she crooned as softly as she could to the squirming little bundle in her arm. She'd been pacing back and forth now with the baby for over an hour. Every time she tried to sit down or, heaven forbid, place Charlie in his crib, he'd start to wail in earnest. She'd already spoken to the pediatrician once and had placed a second call. Thank God she had the man on speed dial!

Forty-nine-years old and she was definitely outclassed by this fifteen pound wonder of creation. He had her wrapped around his little pinky. Christina had no idea how long Charlie could keep this up, but the pediatrician seemed to think it could go on for sometime. What's worse he seemed to think it was a normal part of infancy. Normal? Let him come over and pace the floors!

_Was Jessica ever up all night like this_? She wondered. The fact that she couldn't remember her own daughter's childhood gave her pause. _A mother should remember, shouldn't she? I left her to Charles and the nanny. I didn't want to be bothered. What's wrong with me? I loved Jessica, I know I did. Why did I run away from being a mother?_

Christina Gilmore was not normally given to introspection. The fact that she was doing it now witnessed her level of fatigue and near desperation. And finding herself attempting a lullaby was even more out of character.

"You can't really want me to sing to you? You don't know what you're getting yourself into, Charlie. I can't carry a tune, but here goes…

"When you wish upon a star

Makes no difference who you are

When you wish upon a star

Like dreamers do…"

_Where did that come from_, she wondered, still softly humming the balance of the song whose lyrics she'd forgotten. Kindly, Charlie looked up at her with the wisp of a smile meeting her eyes.

"Little guy, I wish I knew how to take care of you better," Christina whispered, as she continued to try and soothe the little boy. "I wish I could be the mommy you need. I'm afraid I'm not very good at this. Never was with your mom. I'm sure going to need some help. You know, for a little bit, I thought Jack O'Neill would be the one to help. You'd like him, wouldn't you? I know I sure do."

Christina took a deep breath and looked sadly at the little boy in her arms. "It's too bad. From what I saw this morning, seems the man's taken. I wish someone would look at me the way he looks at his 'someone special'. I wonder if that kind of love would have changed me."

Christina had been raised by nannies herself. Her parents had been well off to say the least. In her memory, they were fairly disinterested in her as she was growing up. For her, parenting was done by proxy. It was to be expected.

Childhood had been about expectation and achievement, or at least that's what she remembered. Her socialite parents were consummate jet setters with little time for her wants, needs or whims. She was spoiled in every imaginable material way, but starving for the attention of the people who meant the most to her.

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, in Atlantis …

"Dr. Jackson," John Sheppard called as he entered Daniel's makeshift study unannounced, "can I talk with you?"

"Ah … sure," Daniel answered. "But call me Daniel. Dr. Jackson makes me feel older than I already am."

"Okay, Daniel. How's the translation coming?" John asked.

"Slowly, its coming slowly actually," the linguist replied. "Looks like I'm going to be here awhile."

"That's why Colonel Carter asked for you, she knew she needed the best," John responded.

"Maybe, but I'll bet that's not why you're here, judging from the look on your face," Daniel called the question, putting down the tablet he was working on and turning to face John Sheppard. "Doesn't seem like the 'I think I'll come and get to know you better look.'"

"Right you are, Daniel. It's not," John admitted. "I just had a disturbing conversation with an old CO of mine who suggested Colonel Carter has been compromised."

"Really? And just how did he suggest this happened?" Daniel asked, more than a little annoyed that Sheppard would even consider the accusation.

"He didn't specify. Suffice it to say, he says he has evidence she's a traitor out to turn Atlantis over to enemy hands."

"Now that is the most ridiculous piece of nonsense I've heard in a long while, John," Daniel said, unable to control the look of utter disdain that commandeered his usually pleasant features.

"Why? Because the old SG1 was as squeaky clean as motherhood and apple pie?" John asked. "Sometimes people change. The General told a pretty good story, Daniel."

"I don't care if he wrote War and Peace," Daniel said. "Who is this guy, anyway?"

"Name's Raymond Francis, Brigadier General Raymond Francis, head of Air Force Off-World Intelligence," Sheppard supplied.

_Military intelligence, always thought that was an oxymoron, _Daniel mused silently.

"I'd say the General needs to do a bit more homework," Daniel said. "As far as I know Replicarter was blown to bits and unless Sam's been Goa'ulded without my knowledge, there's no way Samantha Carter poses any threat to this station."

"That's what I thought you'd say. In fact from what I've seen I tend to agree with you," John admitted.

"What are you going to do about this?" Daniel asked.

"Talk with her when she comes back; figure out what's going on with Francis. Talk with my team, maybe in that order, maybe not," John said. "Thanks for your input, Daniel."

"Anytime, John, anytime," Daniel answered, knowing he'd have Sam's back, even if John didn't.

OoOoOo

Jack's orthopedic exam finally finished at 1700 hours. He'd been counting the minutes, watching as his time with Sam ran out all too quickly. By the time he exited the office with a svelte, sophisticated looking cane to replace the awkward, sometimes unwieldy crutches he realized their time was coming to an end.

"Sam, I'm really sorry this took so long," he said apologetically. "Fine way it was for you to spend one of your two days back on Earth."

"Yes, it was a fine way," she said. "I spent it with you; that's really all that matters."

"You sure you have to leave so soon?"

"General Landry is expecting me at 0800 tomorrow morning and I'm due back in Atlantis by noon. So yes, the transport's leaving at midnight."

"You know I didn't mean anything earlier with that comment about being my mother," Jack said, "I was only teasing. I _definitely_ don't see you as my mother."

"I know."

"I was worried. You got all quiet. You know how nuts I get when you're quiet."

"Yeah, you prefer incessant babbling. I know," Sam said, determined to avoid further discussion of the issue.

"I prefer you, Colonel Carter," Jack said simply, "and I always will."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Once again, continued thanks for reading and reviewing. I'm so encouraged to keep working on the story, imagining all sorts of scenarios for our favorite couple.

Last chapter was short, so this one is a bit longer and covers a lot of ground. Again, some background. Hope it wasn't confusing. Let me know what you think. Your reviews are so valued! Please don't hesitate to click the little button and weigh in with your thoughts or opinions on the story. Everyone counts!!


	20. Chapter 20 A Light in Pegasus

"_You sure you have to leave so soon?"_

_"General Landry is expecting me at 0800 tomorrow morning and I'm due back in Atlantis by noon. So yes, the transport's due out at midnight."_

* * *

CHAPTER 20: A LIGHT IN PEGASUS 

"You're smiling," a friendly voice greeted her. It took a second for Colonel Samantha Carter to recover from the whirlwind that was the Stargate wormhole. As it disengaged, she turned to see Teyla's smiling face welcoming her back to Atlantis.

Sam looked at the alien woman, confused. "Yes I am, shouldn't I be?" she asked, hoping there wasn't a reason to dampen her heart's joy quite yet.

"It is only that I haven't seen _this_ smile before, Colonel Carter," Teyla aptly observed. "Can I assume all is well with the friend for whom you were concerned?"

"Yes, that's it, exactly," Sam replied, suspecting that Teyla knew much more than she let on.

Sam's suspicions were correct. Teyla was familiar with the ways of the heart. She knew the look of a woman in love.

OoOoOo

This was not how John Sheppard had envisioned his two day command of Atlantis. He'd been looking forward to a little reprieve from taking orders, a gentle ego boost and a fairly tame couple of days without danger or intrigue.

Francis' bombshell certainly constituted intrigue.

Although he couldn't imagine Carter turned traitor, neither could John allow personal feelings to prejudice his management of a critical situation. Simply put, he needed more information before he spoke with Sam. Worst case scenario and she was working for the other side, he wouldn't want her to know her cover was blown. In normal circumstances, going behind his CO's back would be bad form, but these weren't normal circumstances.

The people he trusted the most were on Atlantis station. Teyla, Ronon, and yes, McKay, they'd been with him, through thick and thin, over the past three years. And they had as much to lose as he did should Atlantis be in jeopardy. They were the ones he needed to speak with first.

"So, what is so important that you had to interrupt the newest vaccine interpolation for the third time this week?" McKay asked testily as he entered the conference room.

"Sit down, Rodney," John said in an equally irritated tone. "Even you'll understand in a minute or two. Good, here they are," he added, referring to the rapid entrance of Teyla and Ronon.

"Your call sounded quite urgent, John," Teyla commented in her usual calm, understated manner. "Have we been located by the Wraith?"

"No, nothing like that," he answered, somehow wishing it could be that simple. "Have a seat, both of you; we need to talk."

"Colonel Carter will not be attending this meeting?" Ronon observed more than asked, noting the absence of a warrior he'd come to respect.

"No, not this one, Ronon," John answered. "There've been some questions raised about the Colonel and her loyalties."

OoOoOo

Watching his flagship team leave the conference room, John Sheppard sank into the nearest available chair. It had been quite a meeting. In less than twenty minutes, his three most trusted advisors had told him, in no uncertain terms, exactly what they thought of Francis' accusations.

Rodney had been beside himself. He'd bolted from the table and paced around the room, gesticulating wildly at thin air while cursing out the strange animal that was Air Force Intelligence. John had never seen Rodney so upset over something that wasn't specifically about him. The foremost authority on all technology found on Atlantis, Rodney McKay raged until he was blue in the face over the stupidity of a General who'd suspect Sam Carter of treason. Despite the gravity of the situation, John couldn't stop himself from asking what he was dying to know.

"_Rodney, I thought you resented the hell out of Colonel Carter," he'd commented._

"_I do," was the simple response._

"_So what's with the outraged defense?"_

"_Sam Carter's a great soldier, a person of integrity, and… well, she's smarter than me. And she's not interested in dating me," he muttered under his breath. "Of course I resent her! But I also know she didn't betray us."_

You never knew what people like Rodney were thinking.

After McKay, Ronon and Teyla had weighed in as well, less dramatically of course, but the gist was the same.

"_We must know more about this General Francis and his reasons for making such accusations," Teyla had insisted. _

"_There are many reasons to accuse persons of things they have not done," Ronon had added. "The accuser may also manufacture the evidence. It is easy enough," the former Wraith runner had stated, citing his own experience._

All in all, John was impressed by the team's refusal to even consider the veracity of General Francis' claims. And then, the chime of the intergalactic monitor had sounded, letting him know the call he'd expected was coming through.

With that, he'd dismissed the team, promising to keep them in the loop as he discovered what was really going on.

The call was from General Hammond. John had called him right after his conversation with Daniel and had been waiting impatiently for his reply.

"John, this is a surprise," Hammond said. "How are you and what's going on in Atlantis? If I'm not mistaken Colonel Carter should be on her way back momentarily."

"Actually, Sir, she arrived over an hour ago," Sheppard admitted.

"Really?"

"Sir, I'm aware this call is somewhat irregular," John said, pausing for emphasis. "However, I'm making it with good reason. I'm following up on a request I received from General Francis."

Hammond's discomfort with the situation was obvious, even over the distance of light years. He didn't know John Sheppard very well, least not on a personal basis. Still he knew the young man was aware of the insubordination involved in going directly to a three star General rather than his own CO.

"Alright, son. This is a secure communication. Tell me what's going on."

John Sheppard did just that, making Hammond aware of every detail of Raymond Francis' allegations against Samantha Carter as well as the General's request that Sheppard provide covert surveillance from Atlantis.

"He said WHAT?" Hammond fairly screamed into the monitor. A split second later the seasoned officer caught himself and turned away just long enough to regain his composure.

"General Francis says he has proof Colonel Carter is working for an offshoot of the Trust, one that's been infiltrated by the Goa'uld," John reiterated.

"The man is unbelievable!" Hammond pronounced before he could muffle his clear disdain for a fellow General.

"Colonel, you have it on my authority to disregard General Francis' request as well as the information he provided. I'll assume full responsibility for Colonel Carter as an officer under my command," Hammond said in his best command voice. "Samantha Carter is a credit to the Air Force and one of the finest officers I've had the pleasure to serve with. These charges are unfounded."

"But, Sir, why … why would General Francis …"

"John, for now let's just say his comments are politically motivated," Hammond supplied evasively. "I would trust Sam Carter with my life. Hell, I'd trust her with the survival of our whole damn planet. In fact, I have, many times. I need you to stand behind her on this. Can you do that?"

"Yes, Sir," John replied, relieved to say the least. "It will be a pleasure."

At that moment, Sam entered the conference room unannounced.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Really looking forward to your reviews, please press the little button and continue to let me know what you think of the story!

Thanks for reading !!!


	21. Chapter 21 Loyalty

_"Yes, Sir," John replied, relieved to say the least. "It will be a pleasure."_

_At that moment, Sam Carter entered the conference room unannounced._

* * *

CHAPTER 21: LOYALTY

"John?" Sam said, more as a statement than a question. As she walked in, she could have sworn she heard George Hammond's deep, reassuring voice.

"Ma'am, welcome back," John called, resisting the urge to jump to attention more from guilt than anything else. He was glad the feed from Earth had blinked off before Colonel Carter was close enough to see the monitor. His only plan of defense was a straightforward admission that he'd been asking questions behind her back. He wasn't looking forward to her reaction. _How bad could it be?_ He wondered

"What's going on, John?" Sam persisted.

The straightforward approach took all of two minutes. He was right; she wasn't pleased, Not at all.

"So you mean to tell me that you've already discussed General Francis' call with your team _and_ General Hammond? I _was_ here you know," Sam protested indignantly.

"What would you have done in my position?" John asked, knowing Colonel Carter would understand his actions once she had a chance to think it through.

Sam paused, taking the measure of the younger man. He was right. She couldn't expect him to warn a possible threat to the station that they were on to her.

"Exactly the same thing, John," she admitted. "I would have done exactly the same thing." After walking to the other side of the conference room table, taking a seat and savoring a couple of deep breaths, Sam continued. "I can't believe this is happening. What can General Francis hope to accomplish by this?"

"General Hammond believes the charges are 'politically motivated'," Sheppard supplied. "Do you know what he means by that?"

"Yes, I probably do," Sam said. "There are charges pending against General Francis. Most likely he's trying to divert attention."

"How would this help him?" John asked, wondering how Francis hoped to weasel out of trouble by accusing Sam.

"He may have reason to believe it will, help him that is," Sam said evasively, not sure how to explain the dynamics involved in Francis' gambit. Then, "John, this could get ugly, very quickly. How did you leave it with Francis?"

"He thinks I believed him," John said. "He still thinks I'm his junior officer, too stupid to know any better."

"Maybe we can use that to our advantage when the time comes," Sam said, struggling to come up with a plan.

"Any way I can help, Ma'am," John replied. "Permission to speak freely about a superior officer?"

"Granted."

"From what I remember of General Francis, he'll do _anything_ he can to save his own butt. The charges don't have to be true; he'll find a way to make them true."

OoOoOo

Later that evening, in an exclusive Washington residence, a notoriously impatient man answered another unwanted call from his blackmailer.

"Yes, Ray. What do you want?" he began.

"Oh don't be like that, Hank. I'm not going to ask for anything you haven't done before," Raymond Francis answered.

"Remember what I said," Hank replied. "No one from this office is moving against Jack O'Neill."

"Not a problem. I've got O'Neill covered," Francis responded quickly.

"How so?"

"O'Neill's like a dog with a bone. You distract him and he drops the bone," Francis explained. "And I've got the perfect distraction."

"And what's that, Ray?"

"Now Hank, to use an old intelligence community joke 'if I told you, I'd have to kill you'," Raymond Francis said in a voice dripping with contempt. "And I'm not ready for those consequences, old friend, not by a long shot. Let's just say, all these years of working with spies has come in handy."

"What's that supposed to mean, Ray?"

"It means, don't underestimate me, Hank. People always underestimate me, you and Laura included. And I'm sick of it," the man spat. "But back to my reason for calling. I need you to arrange for Colonel Samantha Carter to be recalled on suspicion of espionage."

OoOoOo

"Come on in, Jack," George Hammond called as he saw Jack O'Neill approach his outer office.

It had been less than twenty-four hours since Sam returned to Atlantis and about as long since George Hammond completed a disturbing conversation with Lt. Col. John Sheppard. The seventy-year-old three-star General had spent most of that time looking into the rumored allegations made by Raymond Francis. Despite his unshakeable confidence in Samantha Carter's loyalty, Hammond knew Francis' call to Sheppard would only be the beginning. He wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible.

What Carter's persistent commanding officer found through official and unofficial channels was disturbing. It was time to inform his second-in-command that his good friend's status as Commander of Atlantis station may soon by in jeopardy. In fact, her entire career might be called into question.

Hammond knew Jack's reaction would be neither pleasant nor polite.

It was 0700. Most offices in the top secret wing of the Pentagon were still empty. But this couldn't wait. A pre-trial meeting with Francis and his attorney would occur later this morning. At that time, preliminary evidence uncovered by the JAG officers would be disclosed to the defendant and his lawyer. Hammond expected all hell to break loose once Francis appreciated the body of evidence against him. Jack needed to be ready.

"George, we have to stop meeting like this," Jack said, coming in and shaking the older man's hand.

"Something's come up, Jack. It involves Sam and Raymond Francis."

"You really should not mention those names in the same sentence," Jack said making his disdain all too clear.

"Jack, sit down," Hammond directed. "I had a call from John Sheppard. It seems Francis is compiling a case for treason against Sam."

"Treason? What is this, a joke? Sam is the best example we have of professionalism and loyalty," Jack said, amazed by the desparate measures General Francis was taking. "He can't possibly find anything to back up such a charge."

"That's just it, Jack," Hammond countered, "I'm afraid he's put together some fairly damning evidence already."

"Like what?"

"Excerpts of mission reports alleged to have been forwarded by Sam to foreign agents, medical reports from the SGC indicating she was less than balanced upon return from certain missions, experts willing to testify she was likely compromised by Jolinar's possession."

"Is that it? Is someone supposed to believe such a ridiculous claim based on that?"

"There's also a matter of some incriminating documents that he says turned up in the estate of Robert Kinsey."

"George, what are you talking about? Kinsey disappeared a good two years ago."

OoOoOo

Colonel Robert Cramer, Bobby to his friends, was the lead JAG assigned to the Francis investigation. An old friend of Jack O'Neill, Cramer was known as a no nonsense officer who'd known action on the front lines before and after becoming a JAG. Most recently, the forty-five year old widower and father of three had served in Iraq, returning stateside less than three years ago.

Cramer had arrived to review the Francis case with Jack, the convening officer, prior to the arrival of the accused and his counsel. An experienced military attorney, Cramer was surprised when Jack laid out what he knew of Francis' allegations against Sam Carter. He was even more surprised when Jack suggested the allegations were a ploy to interfere with the man's own court martial.

"Jack I don't see where he'd go to all this trouble over _these_ charges," Bobby said. "Yeah they're embarrassing and despicable. If convicted he'll pay a price, but a trumped up espionage charge, why?"

"There's more, there's got to be," Jack insisted. "This isn't about one instance of fraternization. It can't be."

"Well if there's more, my investigators are having one hell of a time finding it, Jack," Bobby informed him. "We've barely got enough to convict him on the Airman Gilmore charge. Jack, General Francis is an intelligence officer. You have to consider the possibility that he is simply doing his job when it comes to Colonel Carter."

"No, Bobby, I don't have to consider that possibility," Jack said in a no-holds-barred command tone, "and neither do you."

TBC

* * *

A/N: As you can tell, the plot thickens and is building to ….?

Continued thanks for reading and expressing thoughts, opinions, suggestions for the story.

Please push the little button and review!


	22. Chapter 22 Fighting Secrets and Lies

_"You have to consider the possibility that he is simply doing his job when it comes to Colonel Carter."_

"_No, Bobby, I don't have to consider that possibility," Jack said in a no-holds-barred command tone, "and neither do you."_

* * *

CHAPTER 22: FIGHTING SECRETS AND LIES

The morning's pre-trial meeting went exactly as George Hammond had predicted. Bobby Cramer outlined the evidence against General Francis, beginning with the depositions of Christina Gilmore and Mary Petrelli, Jessica's best friend. The accused shook his head in dismissal as he heard the general nature of the two depositions. Clearly, he was unimpressed.

The next piece of evidence, however, left the imperious man genuinely flummoxed. Comparison of DNA samples from himself and the Gilmore infant had confirmed paternity beyond a shadow of a doubt. In his blind denial, the experienced, cold-hearted intelligence officer had failed to consider the possibility that he'd actually fathered Jessica's child. When Christina brought Charlie by during her impromptu visit earlier in the week, he'd vehemently dismissed the possibility out of hand. After all, didn't the woman know how promiscuous her daughter was?

_This couldn't be happening_, Raymond Francis thought, his mind racing. _I've never been caught red handed before. There has to be a way around this. DNA evidence isn't fool-proof. O'Neill and the rest of them can never take me down. Others have tried and failed._

Despite his arrogant inner musing, General Francis was confused, taken aback by the evidence he'd convinced himself would never materialize. He'd been careful, hadn't he? He was always careful. He'd agreed to give the DNA sample because he was certain it wouldn't be a match.

Like other insecure yet powerful men, Raymond Francis often covered confusion and other vulnerable emotions with anger; today was no exception.

With his own legal advisor trying to rein him in, Francis launched into an impassioned rant about the inadequacies of the government lab that was used for the paternity test. Jack could swear the man was going to suffer a stroke. He had to admit, if it happened, Francis had it coming.

Before Francis' ire could lead to an early demise, his lawyer took over. In a smooth, measured voice, Bruce Ammering challenged the evidence in a slightly more intelligent manner.

"Gentlemen," he began, addressing O'Neill and Cramer, "you've both been around long enough to realize these charges should be resolved short of court martial. General Francis is a respected member of the military and the intelligence community. His record is clean. _If_ this indiscretion occurred, it was a single instance that did not damage the integrity of the General's office. Furthermore, _if _it occurred, General Francis will assert Airman Gilmore engaged in a campaign of entrapment, resulting in the conception of the aforementioned child."

Bobby Cramer shot his friend Jack O'Neill a quick look. The message was clear, "_Shut up, Jack."_

"Bruce, this office does not believe that to be the case," Bobby replied. "By definition, General Francis, as the superior officer, is responsible for the _indiscretion_ and the consequences. It is the position of my superiors that such actions cannot fail to compromise the functioning of a high level, very sensitive office. We _are_ going to court martial."

At that moment, Raymond Francis flashed Jack O'Neill a look that spoke volumes. His silent message was crystal clear to the seething Major General. _Go through with this and you'll regret it. _

Jack O'Neill knew there would be repercussions for pursuing justice for Jessica Gilmore and her child. He only hoped he could protect Sam as he dismantled the little empire of Raymond Francis.

OoOoOo

Jack was beside himself. It was nearly 2000 hours and still he'd been unable to catch up with Sam.

He'd made it home from the office a full two hours ago. After the frustrating meeting with General Francis and a later meeting with Bobby Cramer and Christina Gilmore he'd been physically and emotionally spent. He just wanted to talk with Sam.

He'd left messages, she'd left messages for him, but so far that's as close as they'd come. He wanted to talk with her, needed to talk with her.

As he waited for Sam, Jack wondered why he'd yet to receive an ultimatum from General Francis, something along the lines of "leave me alone and I'll back off." When he stopped to think about it, even Francis was too smart for that. Francis knew how to get to someone. It was likely that his least favorite spy had planned on John Sheppard leaking the news. Yeah, that was it. Francis likely knew Jack already had the message. There was no need to risk further exposure.

Finally, the laptop sounded its melodic call signal, seconds before a coded message was patched through. Jack stopped pacing and sat down in front of the screen, releasing a sigh of relief.

"Jack, are you alright? Sam asked. "I have a dozen messages to call you."

"Sam, I'm fine," he answered. "It's about you and that fool, Francis."

"Ah, so you've heard," she observed coolly. "You know, somehow I was hoping you wouldn't."

"Why wouldn't you want me to know?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"Because you have enough to worry about," she answered. "We both know he's trying to get to you by discrediting me. Don't let him distract you, Jack. I can take care of myself."

"Sam, I am not about to let him accuse you of treason!"

"Well Jack, I'm not sure what we can do about something that hasn't happened yet."

"Fine, but I want you to know, General Hammond and I are working on this," Jack said, frustration leaking into his tone. "Sam, George has already uncovered some of the material Francis may claim to have. You won't believe it …"

"Jack, there's nothing I can do to keep someone from spreading lies about me, especially before they do it. He may not go through with it. Let's not borrow trouble before it happens. Okay?"

Jack was working furiously to calm down. Why wasn't she as upset as he was? He was soon to find out. Seemed she had more immediate things on her mind at the moment.

"I'm glad we're talking, Jack," Sam said, changing the subject. "I'm going off planet tomorrow with Sheppard's team. Seems there's a promising civilization in the neighborhood willing to share information on how they've avoided culling by the Wraith."

"Why can't Sheppard handle this himself?" Jack asked.

"If you must know, they want to talk with the 'one in charge'". Sam grinned at her former CO. "That would be me, Jack."

"Oh for crying out loud," he exclaimed, stifling a chuckle. "You're going to be impossible, aren't you?"

"There is something to be said for being in charge, Jack," Sam teased. "I'm learning to like it."

"That's exactly what I'm afraid of, Sam," he answered with a smirk. "Okay, but I'm going to miss the 'phone home calls'."

"Me too, Jack. Two days, that's all we're planning," she assured him. "An uneventful mission if all goes according to plan."

"When does it ever, Sam?"

"True enough."

"Be careful, Sam. And know George and I will take care of things here."

"I will and I do, Jack."

The image of Samantha Carter faded out slowly, her smile warming his heart all the while. No words of love were spoken, but Jack heard and thought them nonetheless. He was not about to let Raymond Francis hurt this woman.

OoOoOo

Jack O'Neill wasn't the only one unable to sleep that night.

Miles away, on the other side of the Washington metropolitan hub, Christina Gilmore lay in bed, wide awake. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the arrogant face of the shameless officer who'd fathered her grandson. The more she learned about the man, the more thoroughly she despised him. She was infuriated.

Less than an hour after yesterday's pre-trial meeting, Christina had arrived at Jack O'Neill's office. She'd asked to meet with Jack and Bobby Cramer in order to review her testimony for the pending court martial. The two men had graciously acceded to her request and used the opportunity to bring her up to date on the progress of the investigation.

Cramer and Jack had informed her of the defense's intention to contest the DNA evidence and shift the blame for the affair and "conduct unbecoming" to her daughter.

To think that this sorry waste of oxygen had the audacity to dispute the DNA results! What's worse, he planned to blame Jessica for his own lack of professional discipline! She couldn't and wouldn't have this. She wanted to bury this man, the sooner, the better.

God knows she'd let her feelings be known this afternoon. _Poor Bobby Cramer, _she thought, _the man actually believed I might kill the old fool. _Christina was unsure who reassured who the most. Bobby went out of his way to promise the investigative team would do their best by her daughter, in spite of their limited success thus far. They still had another week before the case began, he assured her.

She wanted to believe him. He was such a nice man, reminded her of Jack in a way. As it turned out, he'd served with Jessica's father in Iraq, talked with him almost every day. From what Bobby said, Charles had talked non-stop about his daughter, not so much about his ex-wife. But that was as it should be. In some ways, it was like a part of Charles was here fighting for their daughter as well.

But Christina wanted to do more, needed to do more. There were too many rumors floating around to believe Jessica had been his first dalliance. Someone had the dirt on this man. Christina Gilmore was willing to bet the General's wife had the best dirt of all.

Laura Francis had been deposed by Bobby Cramer. Her statement was on record, standing squarely behind her husband.

It was one thing for a man's wife to be interviewed by JAG officers. It was another for a woman to talk with another woman, face to face, mother to mother. Christina hoped it would make a difference.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'm a knitter. And right now, I feel like I'm untwisting a big knotted ball of yarn as I continue to spin this tale. So the chapters may come a little slower as I struggle to put the pieces together in a way that's readable and makes sense.

Please continue to help me with your comments, questions etc.

I appreciate all of your reviews and was very happy recently to hear from some readers who hadn't reviewed before. The fact that you take the time to tell me what you think of the story makes all the difference!

I need some help with Atlantis information. What is the name of the doctor who took over when they lost Beckett? Also, what are the standing orders for the Atlantis station?

Thanks in advance for your help!


	23. Chapter 23 Looking for Help

A/N: This chapter starts to explain how the villainous General Francis seems to get away with so much villainy.

_OoOoOo_

_Last time: It was one thing for a man's wife to be interviewed by JAG officers. It was another for a woman to talk with another woman, face to face, mother to mother. Christina hoped it would make a difference. _

OoOoOo

CHAPTER 23: LOOKING FOR HELP

Laura Monroe Francis was an elegant woman. Like Christina, she was born to wealth and accustomed to its advantages. As a dutiful wife, she shared those advantages with Raymond Francis, the man she married.

Laura Monroe became Mrs. Raymond Francis nearly thirty-five years ago. At 21, she was the naïve only child of aging Southern aristocrats. The dashing Air Force lieutenant was her first serious relationship and she was smitten from the start. Lt. Francis courted her in the fashion of the day, with a respectful diligence that put her parents' minds at ease.

In the first throes of love, Laura didn't think twice about the money, the fortune she'd share with the man she chose to be her husband. In her innocence, it never occurred to her that someone might marry her for the inheritance. But that is exactly what happened.

Within the first year of their marriage, Laura suspected Raymond of cheating on her. By then their first child, a son, David Raymond Francis, had arrived. Hoping to preserve their marriage for the sake of their child, Laura confronted Raymond and believed him when he apologized profusely, promising he would never stray again.

But stray he did. Despite his protestations of regret and undying love, the affairs continued. In the next five years, Laura bore him two more children, effectively keeping her tied to him despite his boorish, unfaithful behavior. If anything, after the premature deaths of Laura's parents in a boating accident, Raymond became even more deceitful.

Then it happened. Laura met someone, a married man she believed truly loved her. For six months, the affair was glorious, filled with joy and excitement. It lasted four months after that, each one holding on, hoping somehow everything would work out, despite the odds stacked against them.

One night, Raymond discovered her infidelity. Though a chronic philanderer himself, he believed his wife, the mother of his children, should be his alone. In the midst of his fury and sense of betrayal, Raymond saw the perfect opportunity. Both his wife and her lover, a politically connected young man, would pay a price. And they would pay dearly.

The announcement of Laura's fourth pregnancy solidified Raymond's position. He knew this child was not his; he and Laura had been living separate lives for over a year. Paternity was not in question. But how would Laura, her husband and her lover handle the situation?

Those were horrendous days filled with fear, mistrust and near paranoia for Laura and her married lover. More than anything, Laura hoped the baby's father would rescue her from the mockery her marriage had become, but that wasn't to be. The man had a marriage of his own to worry about and children as well. What's more, he'd recently been elected to his first term as junior Senator from the state of Virginia. It was an accomplishment he was not about to jeopardize and in the early 1980s leaving his own marriage for a married woman and their illegitimate child would have done just that. As he saw it, he had no choice.

Pregnant, trapped in a loveless marriage and abandoned by the man she loved, Laura began to drink and drink heavily. Those were days before the widespread popularity of rehab centers and only a few years after Roe vs. Wade. And in spite of the recent legalization of abortion, Laura could not abide the thought of aborting this child.

So it was that Noelle Francis was born in late 1979.

Laura's options were limited. She considered leaving her husband. Taking Noelle with her wouldn't be a problem, but it would likely mean leaving her other children with Raymond. She had no doubt he'd win custody, branding her an unfaithful wife and unfit mother. As a rising star in the Air Force intelligence community, he certainly had everything at his disposal to make a case against her and protect his own interests.

Besides she loved Noelle's father. Despite all that had happened, despite his ultimate failure to choose her over his wife, she loved him. And Raymond had threatened to go public with the affair, to ruin her lover, if she pursued a separation. His was not an empty threat. Her husband was a man who enjoyed the misery of others. She feared him.

And so, many years ago, Laura Monroe Francis decided to preserve the status quo. For better or for worse, after Noelle's birth, she did what was necessary to keep the peace in the marriage. In short, she learned to ignore Raymond's behavior. Over the years, she learned to play the role of the advantaged military wife to perfection and to keep her place. It wasn't all bad. Along the way, she raised four beautiful children and lived a life filled with fascinating, influential friends, endless travel and comfortable wealth.

Still, she missed Noelle's father everyday.

OoOoOo

As a middle aged society matron, Laura Francis spent most of her afternoons at the private lounge and spa she co-owned with two friends. The hours she spent in this lap of luxury were the most peaceful of her day, a chance to escape the gilded cage she called her home.

Christina handily secured admission to the spa as a guest of a coworker. Once inside, it was easy enough to locate and strike up a conversation with Laura Francis.

"Mrs. Francis, I'm Christina," she began.

"Hello, Christina. I haven't seen you here before," Laura greeted her graciously.

"No, this is my first visit," the younger woman admitted. "It's quite lovely here. You should be proud."

"Thank you," Laura replied with a pleasant smile. "I am proud of this place, its one of the few things I'm proud of these days. Is there something I can do for you, my dear?"

"In fact, there is Mrs. Francis," Christina said. "I'd like to talk with you. My name is Christina Gilmore."

Slowly, Laura recognized the name. "You're the woman who's bringing charges against my husband, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am," Christina replied.

"What do you want to talk about, Christina?" Laura asked curiously.

"It's about your husband," was the simple, direct answer.

"When isn't it about my husband?" Laura asked, sighing softly. It was four in the afternoon and she was on her third glass of wine. "Why not? Sit down, I might as well hear your side of the story."

With an open invitation, Christina told her daughter's story. Sitting poker faced, nary a muscle betraying concern or consternation, Laura Francis listened attentively. Or so it seemed. She'd heard it all before, so many times. This was the first time the rumors, suspicions, innuendos had ever gotten as far as court martial. Always before, the woman would be paid off and never heard of again. But not this time; this time there was a baby, _Raymond's son._ And there was Jack O'Neill, a determined man, if ever there was one. Maybe this one was different.

Still as Christina finished her story, Laura Francis appeared unmoved.

"Mrs. Francis, your husband is intent on smearing my daughter's reputation more than it already is. She doesn't deserve this. Please, is there anything you can tell me that might help our case?" Christina pleaded.

"I'm sorry for your trouble, Ms. Gilmore," Laura replied flatly, her face unreadable. "Truly, I am sorry. But there is nothing I can do to help you." With that, Laura Francis stood up and exited the room in silence.

As she entered her private office and closed the door behind her, Laura hung her head and exhaled sharply. _When will it end?_ She wondered. _Maybe it's time to talk with Hank._

OoOoOo

A/N: Please push the button and review!!

(Don't worry, Jack and Sam return in the next chapter. Promise!)


	24. Chapter 24 Recalled

"_I'm glad we're talking, Jack," Sam said, changing the subject. "I'm going off planet tomorrow with Sheppard's team. Seems there's a promising civilization in the neighborhood willing to share information on how they've avoided culling by the Wraith."_

"_Why can't Sheppard handle this himself?" Jack asked._

"_If you must know, they want to talk with the 'one in charge'". Sam grinned at her former CO. "That would be me, Jack."_

* * *

CHAPTER 24: RECALLED 

(One week later ...)

"Colonel Carter, welcome back," young Dr. Keller said solicitously. "How are you feeling?"

"Sleepy," Sam slurred, looking up from the infirmary bed to see Keller's attentive face, "but alive. Can't complain."

And she couldn't, complain that is.

She'd returned alive from a seemingly simple mission only by force of will and the efforts of her teammates.

The mission was a disaster from the start. In spite of the positive, encouraging initial talks Sheppard and his team had had with the Valerians, in the end, their entire offer of help had been a carefully orchestrated ploy. Seems the only way this rather backward society had actually avoided culling by the Wraith was by luring unsuspecting guests to their own deaths, providing a substitute food source, if you will.

"Sam?" another more familiar, very welcome voice called as she began to fade out again.

_It couldn't be, could it?_ She thought. _Then again, he'd been there for years when she woke up at the SGC._

"Sir?"

"Sir?" he parroted, fondly hoping they weren't back to that again.

"Jack," she corrected herself, happily remembering how things had changed.

"That's me," he admitted.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, struggling to regain her bearings.

"Well, right now I'm sitting in Dr. Keller's med lab talking with the very competent, and lovely, commander of Atlantis station."

If she had the energy, Sam would have shaken her head. As it was, she smiled. And when Jack reached over to take her hand, the smile spread to her eyes. _This is different_, she thought.

"I was worried when you didn't wake up," Jack admitted.

"How long?"

"Team's been back six hours; you've been out at least that long. Mission itself took a week," Jack said, as lightly as he could. "Go figure."

Sam closed her eyes, remembering the final events of the mission. The Valerians weren't happy.

Jack continued, "From what I hear, you had a run in with a nasty force field you decided to take out. Ronon carried you through the Gate."

"Ah, I didn't want …" she began, clearly displeased to have needed the assist.

"And no, they don't think you can't hack it out there anymore. Sheppard knows he's damn lucky they had you with them or they'd still be in that cell waiting for McKay to figure it out."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really," Jack said. "You know, how is it that the highly decorated commander of Atlantis still thinks she has something to prove?"

"I get it, Jack," she said. "How's the team, anyone else hurt?"

"Nope, all been checked out and cleared."

"Okay, so why _are_ you here?"

"General, I'm sorry, but Colonel Carter needs her rest right now," Dr. Keller interrupted. "This will have to wait."

"No problem, Dr. Keller," Jack replied, saved by the bell. "Carter, get some rest, doctor's orders. I'll be here when you wake up."

OoOoOo

"So you haven't told her?"

"No, Daniel," Jack said, "I thought I'd let her rest a bit before I broke the news."

The two friends occupied a table in the bright, open dining area of Atlantis station. Neither man had touched his food. The situation at hand had effectively ruined their appetites and stood to ruin much more.

"Why you?" Daniel asked.

"Why me what?" Jack answered with a question.

"Why'd they send you to bring her back?" Daniel clarified.

"They didn't send me. I insisted," Jack replied flatly.

"Because …"

"Because, Daniel, I don't intend to have some idiot drag her back through the gate like she's a criminal!" Jack said, his eyes reflecting only a fraction of his anger. "That's why."

Daniel nodded his understanding. Nearly a week ago today, General Hammond contacted the station with a priority message for Colonel Sheppard. In John's absence the call was forwarded to Daniel and Colonel Caldwell, currently the ranking officer on base. They were told Sam was being recalled and that charges of espionage had been filed against her. Daniel was still reeling from the news, wondering how anyone could believe the lies Raymond Francis was selling about his friend.

Before Daniel could verbalize a reply, John Sheppard joined the two men.

"What the hell's going on?" a clearly incensed Sheppard asked, pulling up a chair. He and the rest of the team had been informed of Sam's situation after their medical clearance.

"Join the party, John," Daniel quipped. "By the way, Jack says Sam's awake."

"That's good," John said, momentarily diverted. "She's alright, isn't she?"

"Oh yeah, she's fine, Colonel," Jack said sarcastically. "At least until I tell her I'm bringing her home to face charges. That's not going to improve her health."

"There has to be something we can do, General," Sheppard said. "This is crap! She's risked her life for all of us and this is what we do to her?"

"Not we, Sheppard. That no good piece of cowardly garbage calling himself an Air Force General …," Jack said. The calumny was out of his mouth before he could catch himself.

"Don't worry Jack, I'll bet John's thinking the same thing," Daniel said, realizing Jack had violated a well meaning military rule forbidding public derision of high ranking fellow officers.

"Damn it, Daniel," Jack continued in frustration. "I've put three of the best guys I've ever worked with on Francis. That's in addition to Bobby Cramer's team. They've got squat. These guys cover all the bases, and they've got nothing. It's like his life is Teflon coated."

"What about the evidence he says he's got against Sam?"

"From what I understand, we're talking about e-mails he claims were exchanged between Sam and Kinsey as well as damning testimony from former SGC personnel."

"Who would do that? Who would have anything 'damning' to say about Sam?" Daniel asked incredulously.

"Good question. They haven't exactly been forthcoming about the particulars," Jack said. From what Hammond told me, the evidence was processed at a level above him, likely cleared by the President."

"She can't go back," John said. "We're a long ways away, General. If she hides in Pegasus, they'll never find her."

Jack regarded the younger officer carefully, taking the measure of the man. "That's one possibility, Colonel. Not one I'd see Samantha Carter taking, but it is a possibility. If it's what she chooses I won't stop her."

"General, once she's back there …" John began.

"Treason, Jack," Daniel said. "She'll be taken into custody if she goes home, won't she?"

"Yes she will, Daniel," Jack grimaced.

"We've made some friends out here, Sir," John said. "They'd be happy to help Colonel Carter for as long as we need."

"Plan B, Colonel, Plan B," Jack said, shaking his head.

OoOoOo

The next morning Colonel Samantha Carter left the infirmary and went directly to her office. Jack O'Neill was waiting for her. And he didn't look happy to see her.

"Hey, what's happened?" She asked, really hoping there wasn't an emergency just yet.

"Sam, he did it. Francis filed charges," Jack said, his face somber.

She looked at him, clearly puzzled.

"You mean his fantasy about me and Kinsey, the Trust, passing secrets? You're kidding. He'd need to have something credible to take to the convening authority."

"Apparently he did, Sam," Jack said, dreading the next words. "I'm here to bring you home. You're being recalled."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Many thanks for continuing to read and review. All your comments help motivate the muse!! 

Looking forward to your thoughts on the current chapter.


	25. Chapter 25 Homecoming

"_You mean his fantasy about me and Kinsey, the Trust, passing secrets? You're kidding. He'd need to have something credible to take to the convening authority."_

"_Apparently he did, Sam," Jack said, dreading the next words. "I'm here to bring you home. You're being recalled."_

* * *

CHAPTER 25: HOMECOMING 

Jack was right. Sam refused to run and hide.

Initially shocked by the accusation and the supposed existence of "evidence", Sam was overwhelmed. As she sat down wearily, Jack worried they'd be on their way back to the infirmary. But Sam simply put her head in her hands, trying to get control of the thoughts racing through her head. She couldn't believe this was happening.

When Sam looked up again, the pain in her eyes froze Jack's heart. A plea and prayer flashed his way, misery flooding her beautiful features. The plea tore at his soul and he hoped God heard the prayer. Right now, Jack had little faith in his own ability to do anything about the situation. He had to admit, beating the truth out of that snake, Francis, was sounding like a damn good idea, but other than that, he had nothing.

Within seconds, Sam had regained her composure.

"So what now?" she asked.

"Now we go home, and we fight this," Jack answered with as much bravado as he could muster.

"How?"

"Teal'c kills him, slowly," he said, not really joking.

Sam laughed weakly in spite of herself.

"And if that doesn't work, Sheppard promises to deliver at least a couple hundred character witnesses."

"Plan B, Sir?" Sam quipped.

"Hey, Sam, things are bad enough," Jack protested. "What do you say we don't go back to 'Sir'?"

She nodded gently, a hint of a smile on her lips.

"Good idea, Jack," she said, daring to hope.

"Yes, it is."

Then, in her last official act as commander of the station, Sam transferred command to John Sheppard.

Jack advised the SGC to expect them later that afternoon.

OoOoOo

Within the hour, Sam and Jack were on their way back to Earth, the SGC and for Sam, indefinite confinement.

With her command staff solemnly saluting her, Sam saluted in return and offered a tearful smile. She thought John was going to cry. Teyla was crying.

And then, they stepped through the Gate.

On the other side, General Landry was waiting for them, accompanied by a team of MPs. As the wormhole collapsed behind them, Jack glanced at the airmen ahead of him and then back at Sam. They both knew what was coming. It was unavoidable.

An airman, no older than twenty or so, approached Sam with trepidation. Arresting a full bird colonel was nothing he'd anticipated when he'd signed on for this duty. And Sam Carter, well she was the next best thing to a legend as far as he was concerned.

"Ma'am…" the young man said, as though asking for permission.

"It's alright, Airman, Sam said, holding out her hands and calmly allowing him to place the cuffs. Jack wasn't quite so calm; he stared at the young man throughout the maneuver.

"I'm sorry, Sam" Landry said, as the security team prepared to lead her away.

"No you're not, Hank," Jack said, indicating to the airmen they were to wait for him. "If you were, you wouldn't have allowed this," he said, indicating the restraint.

"You know better than that, Jack," he said. "I've got my orders, just like you."

"Whatever," Jack said dismissively, choosing to end the conversation and accompany Sam to the holding cell. He wanted to hurt someone, but he knew Landry didn't deserve his wrath. Hank was only the poor sap in the middle right now.

OoOoOo

Jack made the trip to the holding cell with Sam and stayed there a bit longer, offering what reassurance he could. For her part, Sam did her best to convince him she'd be fine.

He wasn't buying it; yes, she'd cope but she couldn't be "fine", not with this.

Sam all but kicked him out, telling him to get back to Washington and expressing her trust that he'd find a way to discredit Francis and clear her, short of court martial.

He agreed to leave, but only for a talk with Landry.

OoOoOo

Two hours later, Sam boarded an Air Force transport bound for Washington. She was under guard, escorted by two military police from Peterson AFB. She was surprised to see a familiar Major General already seated on board.

"The Colonel's seat is right here," Jack instructed Sam's guards in a tone that allowed no debate.

Jack motioned Sam to the seat directly next to his. As she made to comply, her guards remained standing close by

"Your seats are in the rear, boys," Jack said directly to the MPs. "Don't worry, I have her covered," Jack insisted. "Now, sit!"

"Yes, Sir, General, Sir," they barked almost in unison.

Once the MPs were settled in their rear seats, Sam looked at Jack with a quizzical smile.

"What…?"

"I had to get to Washington," he said. "I heard you were going my way." Then he took her hand and squeezed gently. Sam closed her eyes momentarily and swallowed hard. No words were necessary. Jack's support was as real as ever. Now along with the support she knew was always there, she sensed the something more she'd denied for so long. When this was over, there would be no more denial.

For three more hours, he'd be with her. For now his presence was enough.

Besides, now they had three more hours to plot their strategy.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading 

Please push the button and review!


	26. Chapter 26 Reflections

A/N: Thank you once more for continuing to read and so faithfully reviewing. It's so encouraging to hear from you!

OoOoOo

_Last time: For three more hours, he'd be with her and for now his presence was more than enough. _

_Besides, now they had three more hours to plot strategy._

_OoOoOo_

CHAPTER 26: REFLECTIONS

Tonight, for the first time since the accident, Jack O'Neill drove the road through the foothills where he'd first crossed paths with the Gilmores. Derrick always avoided this route, but he'd ditched Derrick tonight. The doctors had restored his driving privileges only a few days earlier and Jack had thrown the cane away before leaving for Atlantis a mere twenty-four hours ago.

Reluctantly, he'd left Sam at Bolling Air Force Base. There she would be confined until her court martial got underway, most likely within the next two weeks.

He'd stayed with her through as much of the intake process as possible. Eventually, he was compelled to leave Sam to settle into her new surroundings alone. By the time he'd left for home it was midnight. Needless to say, he left with a heavy heart.

It had been four weeks. Only four weeks since the accident and so much had changed. Now on a calm, peaceful night, as he drove the exact same road and passed the fateful drop off point, he wondered "if only". _If only the accident had never happened_. _If only, the weather had been dry and calm that night. If only the Jeep had held the road. If only I'd never met the Gilmores, never held baby Charlie. If only Charlie's mother was alive. Maybe Christina wouldn't have filed charges against Raymond Francis. And Raymond Francis would've had no reason to go after Sam. _

_Coulda, Woulda, Shoulda…Maybe, Maybe not. God knows, I'm glad I was there for Charlie. That baby deserves to live out his life. He's certainly had a difficult start and one lousy excuse for a father._

_As much as I wish that night never happened, it's the reason Sam doesn't call me Sir anymore. And the reason I'm finally ready to change our relationship. It reminded me we don't have forever. I've got hope for us now and I'll be damned if Francis is going to take that away from me!_

_And Francis, if not now, when? It's time that self righteous bastard gets what's coming to him. If half the rumors are true, the man's been abusing the trust of those he commands for years. And God knows what else he's been doing. He can't be allowed to continue._

_But why Sam? Why does she have to be the sacrifice? Why couldn't the slimeball go after me? Charge me, intimidate me, threaten me. Why her? Sam did nothing to hurt him. _

_Damn it, Sam. I can't let this happen to you. I should have stopped it before it got this far. I should have encouraged you to run like Sheppard suggested. _

_Getting his charges dropped, can't do it, even if he would back off, Sam. I know you wouldn't want that. I have to find something to bring him down, before he causes more damage. And that's exactly what I'm going to do. I promise, that's exactly what I'm going to do._

OoOoOo

At Bolling, Sam tried her hardest to sleep. It was nearing 0100, already two hours after lights out. The cell block was preternaturally silent. Probably had a lot to do with having only three other women housed in the block, each at some distance from her own cell.

She was assigned to a wing of the facility set aside for high priority prisoners, those deemed significant security risks. For the most part she would be kept in isolation from the other inmates for the duration of her stay.

She'd been here three hours and already she was going stir crazy. The cell was large enough, probably the size of a standard SGC crew quarters room and twice as antiseptic. The furniture, what there was of it, was cold metal. A utilitarian desk, a chair, the stripped down, no frills bed and a metal stationery closet rounded out the amenities of the small private area. Private if one discounted the bars that exposed the entire area to the guards. To her relief, there was a restroom off the main area, somewhat concealed. But even that was equipped with a camera, no doubt offering some poor bored airman an interesting view.

_What do they think I'm going to do?_ Sam wondered. _Stage a jail break? Blow up the place?_

Self pity was something Samantha Carter hated. A waste of time, she'd always said. But tonight she was tempted to make an exception. Unbidden, the dreaded voice of doubt and despair crept into her mind and heart.

_I can't believe this is happening. And I can't do anything to help myself. What did I do to deserve this? I've given my life to the Air Force. I've got more battle scars than I can count, inside and out. Everything has been focused on my career, on the military, on being a better officer, more suited for command. I'm always obeying rules, rules that cost me dearly sometimes. And now, I'm accused of betraying everything I've honored and defended. _

_And then there's Jack. How absurd this whole thing is! Here we finally start to think about the relationship we've denied ourselves for so long and everything comes crashing down. It's not fair. Then again, 'life's not fair, Samantha', that's what Dad always said. _

_Okay, Dad, I get it, 'life's not fair'. Now what am I going to do about it?_

OoOoOo

Hank sat quietly behind his mammoth desk. It was the end of a day he wanted to wipe from his mind. There'd been other days he wanted to forget, lots of them if he were honest. In his position, the rewards were great, but then again, missteps loomed large. Still today was one of his worst days. Other days, even when nothing went as planned, he could tell himself he'd done his best. He could tell himself, he followed the recommendations of his advisors. And he could go to sleep with a clear conscience. But today, today he was ashamed of himself.

Smaller missteps had led up to this. Or maybe they seemed small because he'd been so busy denying there was anything wrong with what he was doing. Sure, there'd been shame and guilt associated with those actions as well, the ways he'd misused the powers of his office to placate his blackmailer. But this was different. Today, he'd signed orders charging a heroic military officer with treason. In his heart, despite the stack of evidence presented to him, he knew the charges were unsubstantiated. He couldn't prove it, but he knew. And at that moment of truth he'd lacked the fortitude to stand behind a woman who'd saved the country, the whole planet, on more than one occasion.

_Where is this going to end?_ He wondered. _Certainly, Raymond won't end it. So much has happened. So many years have passed. I've made so many mistakes. I'm not sure I have the courage to do what needs to be done._

OoOoOo

Laura Francis sat in a high backed chair in her fashionably furnished sitting room. It had been years since she'd shared a bed with her husband, so the fact she was unable to sleep tonight was of no concern to him.

It had been days since Christina Gilmore ambushed her at the spa. Still, she couldn't get the woman's visit out of her head. _All she wanted was my help to protect what's left of her daughter's reputation. All she asked for was the truth. All …_

_If only Christina knew what she was asking, maybe then she'd understand why I couldn't help her. There's so much. My husband is guilty of more than she knows. There's so much at stake. I'd hoped Hank would help, that he'd be ready, but I'm not sure he is. I can't force it. It has to be his decision. I just don't know how much longer I can live like this, how much longer I can let Raymond hold us hostage to what happened so long ago. I'm tired of standing by and watching him ruin lives. I should have spoke up long ago…Maybe Hank will simply have to understand. Maybe it's time…_

OoOoOo

As Jack pulled into his driveway, he wondered why he'd bothered to come home. He knew there'd be no sleeping tonight. _I should've gone straight to the office and gotten an early start on the mass of paperwork Madelaine's piled on my desk, _he thought. _Who am I kidding, I'd just start pouring over the records my investigators have dug up on Francis, and I've already read all of them five or six times._

A discouraged, frustrated Jack O'Neill shifted the car into park, got out and made his way to his front door. Fumbling for his keys in the dark, he caught sight of two unexpected visitors.

Teal'c and Daniel were waiting on his doorstep.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing. 


	27. Chapter 27 Counterattack

_A discouraged, frustrated Jack O'Neill shifted the car into park, got out and made his way to his front door. Fumbling for his keys in the dark, he caught sight of two unexpected visitors._

_Teal'c and Daniel were waiting on his doorstep._

* * *

CHAPTER 27: COUNTERATTACK 

"What brings the two of you to my doorstep on this fine evening? You like freezing your asses off, or what?" Jack asked, in his usual irreverent style. "It _is_ the middle of January, you know."

"Indeed O'Neill," Teal'c said, standing up and brushing himself off. "I am aware of the month of the year. Do you plan to invite us in?"

"Or leave us out here to freeze?" Daniel added.

"Come on in," Jack said with a friendly smirk.

While his two partially frozen friends made their way to the living room and turned up the heat, Jack started a fire.

"Hey, while I'm doing this would someone mind telling me why you're here?"

"We are here to help you defend Colonel Carter," Teal'c answered simply.

Standing up from his place in front of the now roaring fire, Jack asked, "So you got my message?"

"Yes, General Landry was successful in reaching me," Teal'c replied. "It is a great injustice that has been done to Colonel Carter, one I did not believe would actually happen."

"Yeah, that's for sure," Jack said. "What about you, Daniel? Last I knew you were in another galaxy."

"Oh yeah, that," Daniel answered. "Colonel Sheppard decided I'd be more helpful here."

By now Jack had made it the kitchen and was returning with a supply of Guinness and other beverages.

"How's that, Daniel?"

"Actually, he wanted to come himself, Jack," Daniel said, "but his team talked him out of it, something about needing stable leadership on the station. He wasn't happy. Anyway, seems John remained in contact with someone General Francis abused in the past. He thinks I can convince her to testify against him."

"Really?" Jack asked, reluctant to believe they'd finally found someone who might be willing to talk.

"Yeah, really, Jack. We might actually have a break," Daniel said. "Her name's Rebecca Osterhouse, widow of an airman John knew years ago. He says she has evidence pertaining to sexual harassment, filing of false charges and blackmail."

"If that is the case, Daniel Jackson, why did she not come forward earlier?" Teal'c enquired.

"John says the time was never right. He's hoping once she hears about Sam and the current charges against Francis, she'll be willing to come forward," Daniel replied.

"No guarantees," Jack said.

"But it's worth the attempt, best lead we've got so far," Daniel suggested.

"Maybe," Jack said, not overly impressed "What about you, T.? Any luck with your interviews."

At the behest of General Hammond, Teal'c had spent the better part of the past week examining the "evidence" against Samantha Carter. This had included paying visits to the three former SGC airmen named as witnesses against their accused friend.

"None of the three were forthcoming with information, O'Neill," Teal'c answered.

"I'm disappointed T. I had more faith in your powers of persuasion," Jack quipped.

"General Hammond ordered me to refrain from physical violence or threats of torture, O'Neill," Teal'c explained in earnest.

"Ah … that explains it," Jack said before taking a long drag on his Guinness.

"Well, what _did_ they say, Teal'c?" Daniel asked. "What could they have against Sam?"

"Each of the three spent relatively little time at the SGC, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said. "Yet all claim to have witnessed Colonel Carter passing classified information to the enemy during their terms of service."

"And how in the world would they witness something like that?" Jack asked. "That's ridiculous."

"Perhaps," Teal'c admitted. "But it is the testimony they have provided."

"Who the hell are these people?" Jack asked, clearly agitated.

"They have all worked as low level technicians in the labs. It is possible they worked briefly with Colonel Carter," Teal'c stated.

"Why would they perjure themselves?" Daniel asked. "Did they give you anything that might explain this?"

"What's to explain, Daniel?" Jack said impatiently. "These miserable liars were bribed by Francis to blackball Sam. Money, explains it all."

"Jack, I was hoping for something that might discredit the allegations they're making. You know, like specifics," Daniel added.

"Again, they were not forthcoming," Teal'c offered in response. "However, both your security team and General Hammond's men are checking their accounts of money to see if they have recently become richer than usual."

Jack looked briefly at Teal'c, surprised for a moment how his friend's awkward use of the language still surprised him at times.

"I believe it is time for less honorable measures, O'Neill," Teal'c said. "I would be happy to revisit those men with 'the gloves off', as you say."

"I bet you would T.," Jack said. "So would I. But for now, let's stick with finding Rebecca Osterhouse. Let's see if Sheppard's right about her."

OoOoOo

If the three friends got two hours of sleep between them that night, it was a lot. So when Jack O'Neill made his way to the office later that morning he was haggard and irritable to say the least. Still, the determined Major General stormed into his office, unwilling to take no for an answer.

"Madelaine, cancel today's meetings," Jack said. "Let Bobby Cramer know I need to see him ASAP. And ask General Hammond to come down right away."

"Sir," Madelaine began, a bit taken aback by Jack's abruptness.

"What?" the preoccupied man barked.

"Sir, Colonel Cramer and General Hammond are already here …"

She didn't get to finish before Jack left her to join the two waiting men.

"It's about time you showed up, Jack," Bobby said. "Don't look so puzzled, Teal'c called, said you were on your way and not in a good mood."

"He said that? I wounded, I really am," Jack said, trying to calm down. "I'm glad you're both here. I need your help."

"That's what we're here for Jack," Hammond said. "We need to talk about what's happening to Sam."

"You're damned right we do," Jack agreed.

"Yeah, Jack. It seems General Hammond and the rest of the US Air Force doesn't believe these charges anymore than you do," Bobby said, recalling his last conversation on the matter with his friend.

"It's time for us to work together and clear this up," Hammond continued. "It's gone too far already."

"That's just it, George. How the hell did it get this far?" Jack asked. "Who believed those three losers? Who signed off on the order?"

"I've talked to General Mancini," Hammond said, referring to his commanding officer. "His evasiveness leads me to believe it came from a level above him."

"Well, if I'm not mistaken, that's the White House," Jack surmised.

"You got that right, Jack," Bobby confirmed.

"Hayes? He's not stupid? What the …? You don't think?" Jack sputtered, trying to make sense of this turn of events.

"I don't know what to think, Jack," Hammond said. "But I've known Henry Hayes a long time. I'll make it my business to find out what's going on."

"And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime, we beat Raymond Francis at his own game," Bobby Cramer supplied. "And we bring his down … for good."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Continued thanks for your attention to this story! 


	28. Chapter 28 Strategy and Perseverance

"_I don't know what to think, Jack," Hammond said. "But I've known Henry Hayes a long time. I'll make it my business to find out what's going on."_

"_And in the meantime?"_

"_In the meantime, we beat Raymond Francis at his own game," Bobby Cramer supplied. "And we bring him down … for good."_

* * *

CHAPTER 28: STRATEGY AND PERSEVERANCE

Hammond and Cramer had been gone less than thirty minutes. After the impromptu strategy session, Jack's mood was slightly better than when he first arrived at the office. He even apologized to Madelaine for snapping at her earlier.

Then he called Bolling to check on Sam. Furious when they refused to let her take the call, he had to be satisfied with a second hand report on her condition.

It was right after that phone call Christina Gilmore showed up. Hers was one of the appointments he'd told Madelaine to cancel. Unfortunately, Christina was already on her way and not to be detoured.

"General, Ms. Gilmore is here," Madelaine announced hesitantly. She knew this was not a good morning and her boss would rather not be disturbed.

"It's alright, Madelaine," Jack said with resignation. "Send her in."

Christina couldn't help but notice the lack of enthusiasm in Jack's greeting. So rather than the usual flirtatious pleasantries, she got right to the point.

"What's wrong, Jack?" she asked. "Has something happened with the case?"

"Yeah, something's happened alright," he replied testily. The opening round of General Francis' court martial was set for two days from today. That was the reason for Christina's appointment this morning. As circumstances had developed, Jack wasn't certain he could even look the man in the face again without punching him, let alone convene legal proceedings.

Christina studied her new found hero closely. In the brief time she'd known him she'd found Jack O'Neill to be professional and composed. But not today; today he was ready to dismember someone or something. She hoped it wouldn't be her.

"So are we still on for Friday?" she asked, referring to the trial and trying to be as non-intrusive as possible.

"Yep, on we are," he said with his best acerbic tone. "Should be fun, don't you think?"

"Jack, what's happened?" she asked again. "I can't take this attitude until Friday."

"What's happened? I'll tell you what's happened. That worthless piece of military garbage is trying to ruin Sam! That's what's happened for crying out loud," he shouted, managing to clear his desk with an indignant sweep of his arm.

"Sam, she's your 'someone special', right?" Christina acknowledged sadly. How she wished someone would be that upset over _her_ welfare.

Her unexpected words caught Jack by surprise, even in his agitation. He closed his eyes tightly, huffing out a deep breath. When he opened them and really looked at her for the first time since she'd come in, he'd calmed somewhat. Thinking about Sam as his 'someone special' had that effect on him. Okay, he could do this. After all, being irrational and out of control certainly wouldn't help Sam. And Christina didn't deserve his wrath.

"That she is, Christina," he replied without the earlier angst. "I love her. It's taken me a long time to admit, but I love Sam. I don't want to see her hurt."

"What's he done?" she asked. They both knew the unnamed "he" was the despicable General Raymond Francis.

"He's put together some phony evidence that she's a spy," Jack said. "Sam was arrested for treason yesterday. She's in the stockade at Bolling."

"He thinks you'll cave, is that it?" she asked insightfully.

"That's what I'm thinking," Jack replied. "Don't worry, Christina. I know what I have to do. You'll get justice for Jessica. Francis will pay, he'll pay for everything, believe me."

Christina nodded slowly, appreciating the sacrifice this man was making for her family. "Come on, Jack," she said gently. "What do you say we continue this discussion outside? You look like you could use some air. I know I could use a walk."

Jack looked at her silently for a moment, his eyes sad, before replying.

"Yeah, sounds good," he said. "I've got about half an hour before my next appointment."

OoOoOo

On any day, Jack found the green space surrounding the Pentagon offices much preferable to the stale air inside. Today was no exception; truth be told, he needed the change even more today. He needed to air out his foul mood.

As they exited the front door, Jack finally thought to ask, "How's Charlie? I miss the little guy."

"I think he misses you too, Jack," Christina said. "I know he's only five-months-old, but I think you know when someone saves your life. Anyway, Charlie's been a little sick. He's had a really bad ear infection that doesn't seem to go away. It's made him so irritable he's been up more than usual at night."

"What's the doctor say?" Jack asked, remembering some childhood illnesses with his Charlie. "Is he going to be okay?"

"His doctor says some babies are prone to ear infections and he'll be fine," she said. "Still, you know me, not exactly Mrs. Mom. Sick kids are certainly not my forte."

"So how are you managing?" he asked with sincere concern.

"Now promise me you won't laugh," she said, waiting for him to nod his agreement. "If you must know I've hired a private duty nurse for the nights Maria is off."

In spite of himself, Jack worked mightily to stifle a chuckle.

"You promised no laughing!" she said with mock outrage.

"I know," he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Thanks, I needed that to take my mind off all of this."

"Let me help, Jack," Christina said, more as a plea than a statement.

"What are you thinking?" he asked, continuing to walk across the lush carpet of green grass.

"Here's what I'm thinking, Jack," she said. "You know this is about blackmail. He'll have the charges against Sam dropped if you drop the fraternization charges. Am I right?"

"No doubt about it," Jack answered definitively.

"Do you have any proof, besides your intuition?" Christina came back with the $64,000 question.

"Man's too slick for that, Christina," Jack admitted.

"That's what I thought," she said. "Here's where I come in. Someone has to confront Francis and it can't be you."

"How do you figure?"

"You have no proof and you can't drop the charges, for which I thank you, by the way," she said. "But I can, convince him I can get them dropped that is."

"And how do you propose to do that?" Jack asked.

"I convince him I have a thing for you," she said with a sly smile. "See, it shouldn't be too hard since it's true," Christina's eyes turned sad with the admission. "I'll tell him I don't want you to be miserable, with your friend in disgrace and all. All I need to do is strike a bargain. I'll get you to drop the charges in exchange for a financial payoff from him and your undying gratitude."

"We need him to do more than drop the charges," Jack said. "We need him to admit they were unfounded in the first place."

Before Christina could respond, the two walkers were joined by a familiar face they'd inadvertently left behind.

"Hey, can I join this little nature walk?" the newcomer asked.

Jack turned briskly to greet the unexpected form of Bobby Cramer.

"I thought you left," he said.

"I was due back in your office for a meeting with our star witness here, remember," Bobby said, reminding his old buddy of the meeting he'd obviously forgotten.

"Oh yeah, that," Jack said. "Another meeting, just what we need."

"We do need to nail down our strategy for Friday's opening," Bobby said. "Besides, I've been busy in the past hour. I think you'll like what I've got Jack."

And with that, the trio made their way back to the Home Ops office to complete their planning.

OoOoOo

At 1600 hours, having concluded a productive session with Christina Gilmore, Jack accompanied Bobby Cramer on a visit to his newest, high profile client, Colonel Samantha Carter.

During the past two weeks, Bobby had begun to understand his good friend's connection with Sam Carter. It was more than the loyalty of two soldiers who had fought together for years. It was more than the caring of close friends. No doubt about it, these two were in love.

Sam walked to the conference room/visiting area with her hands cuffed in front of her and a guard on either side. She'd been at Bolling less than twenty-four hours and she'd had about enough of being treated as a criminal. Clearly, no one here trusted her. Of course, she reasoned, she _was_ charged with treason. Why _should_ they trust her? Most likely, the guards heard false claims of innocence all the time.

She'd been told her JAG lawyer was here to see her. Bobby Cramer was someone she barely knew, but a man Jack trusted implicitly. And Jack's opinion meant a great deal to her. Expecting a completely professional and most likely depressing visit with her lawyer, Sam was pleasantly surprised to see Jack sitting next to Bobby at the conference table. After taking so much time to literally transport her from Atlantis, she wondered how Jack had found the time to come back today. Surely he had more than Samantha Carter on his mind. She had to admit, however he did it, she was glad he was here.

Jack watched carefully as Sam entered the sparsely furnished conference room. It was clear from the dark circles under her eyes that she hadn't slept last night. Wearing a drab grey prison uniform reminiscent of hospital scrubs, the newly incarcerated officer had lost none of her spunk. Jack was gratified to see her irritably brush off the guiding hand of her guard as he steered her to her seat. The look she flashed the guard conveyed a defiance that spoke volumes to her concerned visitors.

Over the next hour, Bobby and Jack brought Sam up to speed on the current state of her defense. This included a complete review of the evidence they'd seen and the witnesses they were so far ready to call on her behalf. Not surprisingly, she learned Bobby had been deluged with calls from the SGC and Area 51, offering to testify to her character and her stellar contributions to the Air Force. More surprisingly, they informed her of an unexpected development.

"Sam, I think we may have a break," Bobby said. "Laura Francis has asked to see Jack and me. Not at home, at her spa, where she's sure Francis won't be."

"So you think she's ready to talk?" Sam asked skeptically. "If I remember, you said she wasn't very helpful when Christina Gilmore talked with her recently."

"No, but she's had more time," Jack said. "I don't know, Sam. I have to believe something's changed. "Why else would she want to talk with the men prosecuting her husband?"

"To ask for mercy?" Sam suggested.

"For him?" Bobby answered with a question. "You have to be kidding!"

OoOoOo

After an hour, Bobby discretely excused himself, purportedly to speak with another client at the facility. As prearranged, this left Jack time alone with Sam as part of the ninety minute conference allotment.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself," she replied, realizing Jack would never be much of a talker in any circumstance.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah. I should never have let this happen," he said in all seriousness.

"I don't believe it! You're blaming yourself for this," Sam said incredulously. "I suppose you caused the last solar eclipse too."

Jack was clearly taken aback by Sam's mildly outraged tone. It didn't take much for him to catch on to her train of thought.

"Well, let me think," he said, his voice more playful now. "I could have had something to do with it."

Sam smiled warmly, her eyes holding Jack's and her still cuffed hands reaching out across the metal table that separated them. Hampered by the cuffs, she could only reach so far. Then Jack reached back, closing the distance between them.

For a few moments, there was silence. It was the silence of two people in love, where no words were necessary. Finally, Jack spoke, needing the reassurance he was about to offer Sam.

"You know we're getting you out of here, right?"

"I know," Sam said. And she did. "But I want to do something, anything other than sit here and let you do all the work."

"Sam, from what I heard during the past hour, I'd say you're still doing the heavy thinking on this team," Jack said. "You're the one who came up with the sting."

"Yeah," she said with a satisfied smile. "That was my idea, wasn't it?"

TBC

* * *

A/N: The plan for the sting will be revealed in the next chapter and then it is underway!

It was very difficult to bring this chapter together. Hope it advanced the story enough for now.

Thanks for continuing to read.

Please review!


	29. Chapter 29 Breaking Through

BREAKING THROUGH

Late at night, in the darkened study of a well guarded residence, a tired, overburdened man answered the phone. The voice on the other end was not a welcome one.

"What now, Raymond?" the man asked.

"I wanted to thank you, my friend," was the deceptively jovial reply.

"For what, pray tell?"

"Your exemplary work on the Samantha Carter matter, Hank."

"It was hardly exemplary, Raymond. It was deceitful and fraudulent," the first man protested. "And stop calling me, Hank. No one calls me that anymore."

"No one but my wife," Raymond said with perverse satisfaction. "That's why I still use it, Hank. Have a good night, old friend."

OoOoOo

The next morning two unlikely visitors arrived at the posh suburban spa owned by Laura Francis.

Men were seldom seen at this resort where fabulously wealthy women went to pamper themselves. Men in full dress military uniform were even more unique. As such, Jack and Bobby stood out like two sore thumbs.

"The two of you look like you need Black Ops extraction from a hostile situation," Laura Francis said, coming up behind them. Jack turned to see a small smile of amusement on the diminutive woman's lips. He had to admit, he and Bobby were definitely out of place in the pastel-colored, softly lit antechamber.

"It's quite a place you've got here," Jack responded. "I have to admit it's not my style, but very impressive."

"Thank you, General O'Neill," Laura answered. "I'm very proud of it. And you must be Robert Cramer," she said, turning to Bobby.

"Guilty as charged, Ma'am," Bobby replied, holding out his hand.

"Thank you both for coming," Laura said, her face losing the lightness it had had only seconds earlier. Please join me in my office."

With that, General Francis' wife of forty years ushered Jack and Bobby into her private study. Once she closed the door, she realized there was no turning back from her fateful intent. The decision had been made. It was time for the unholy wall of silence and denial to be torn down. And she intended to do just that.

After offering refreshments which were politely refused, Laura began to explain the reason behind her invitation.

"I'm sure you're both wondering why I asked you here," she stated matter-of-factly.

"That's correct, Mrs. Francis," Bobby answered in his best professional tone. Jack remained silent, his face blank and revealing nothing. Bobby continued, "What can we do for you Ma'am?"

"It's more of what I can do for you, Mr. Cramer," Laura admitted. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "This has been a long time coming, over thirty years to be exact. It's time, now, before anymore people are hurt."

Jack was genuinely puzzled. He hoped this would be about Raymond Francis' indiscretions, but this, this seemed so secretive, her manner almost overblown in its intensity.

"Mrs. Francis, I'm afraid I don't understand," Jack said as gently as he could. He found himself feeling sorry for this woman. She'd always been pleasant enough to him. To have been married to someone like Francis all these years couldn't have been a bed of roses.

"As you've probably guessed, I want to talk with you about my husband," Laura said, attempting to clarify. "I have information that will allow you to convict him on multiple charges. Fraternization, assault and blackmail of 'a high government official', shall we say."

Bobby and Jack looked at each other for a moment, hesitant to believe their good fortune. What had happened that Laura Francis would be willing to speak against her husband now?

"You want to know why I haven't spoken up sooner," Laura asked, as if reading their thoughts. "There have been many reasons over the years, gentleman. Basically it boils down to the fact that I was frightened, scared of the consequences of defying him."

"Afraid he would hurt you?" Jack asked.

"Yes, but not the way you think, General," she said. "You see, for years, Raymond has been having affairs with women in his office. Some of these 'relationships' lasted longer than others. Some were with military women under his command, like Jessica Gilmore. I'm aware of more than one instance where he physically abused these women.

"I've known for years. For a long while I kept silent to protect the people I loved." Laura paused, took a deep breath and walked over to her desk. Smiling tenderly, she picked up a small framed picture. Looking at it lovingly, she continued.

"I had an affair too, very early in our marriage. My fourth child was a result of that relationship."

Jack looked at Laura Francis in puzzlement. She easily caught the unspoken question.

"Yes, General O'Neill, my very proud, very public husband only shows off _his_ three children, not my Noelle. He knew from the beginning. He knew and he used it against us."

"Us?" Jack questioned.

"My lover and I," Laura paused as if waiting for someone to ask a question, something that would make this easier. But no escape was forthcoming. "We both had much to loose if our affair was made public. Perhaps Hank more than I. Then again for so long I wanted to protect him too."

Jack O'Neill and Robert Cramer watched the far away, wistful look that stole over Laura Francis' features. Her thoughts were somewhere, with someone, far from this room.

"You were saying, Mrs. Francis," Bobby called her back.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I was thinking of Noelle. She would have been twenty-eight this year."

"Would have been?" Jack asked.

"She died, two years ago at Shorewinds," Laura said, cryptically mentioning a private hospital for severely impaired children. "My Noelle was born with fetal alcohol syndrome. It was awhile before we realized what was wrong with her. It was my fault, I drank during the pregnancy. And my little girl, she paid for that.

"Raymond used many things to buy my silence over the years. He used the threat of taking my other children from me, the threat of ruining Hank, my guilt about Noelle, whatever appeared to hurt the most at the moment."

"Why now? Why are you telling us now?" Jack asked, still curious what had changed after all these years.

"The time is right," she said simply. Noelle's gone, another family is hurting and I'm tired of keeping his secrets. My other three children are grown; they're strong enough now to handle the truth about their father. When that woman, Christina came to see me last week, she brought a picture of her grandchild, _Raymond's son_." Laura said the last few words with great difficulty. "I didn't think he had the power to hurt me anymore, but knowing he has a child by another woman, for some reason that still hurts.

"And Hank's ready now. You should talk to him. This has to end."

OoOoOo

George Hammond had known President Henry Hayes since they served together as young Air Force Lieutenants in the 1960s, many long years ago. They'd both changed dramatically over the past forty years. Where Hammond made a lifelong career of the military, Henry Hayes resigned his commission by the mid '70s, seeking his fortunes in the political arena.

Within 2 years of leaving the Air Force, George Hammond's friend had been elected junior senator from the state of Virginia. And the rest, as they say, was history. Dashing, well spoken, popular on both sides of the political aisle, he burst upon the Washington scene with great promise. Now as he served out his second term in the White House, that promise was about to be broken.

"George, come in, come in," President Hayes called good naturedly, rescuing his old friend from the Secret Service agents who'd accosted him as he attempted to enter the residence. "It's okay, boys, I'm in good hands," he said to the overeager bodyguards. "This is an old friend I've ignored all too long."

If General George Hammond were the type of man to be intimidated, now would be the time. When he called to request a meeting with the President of the United States, President Hayes had insisted it be conducted in the Residence, not the formal West Wing of the White House. Though Hammond had specifically told him this was a business meeting and not a personal call, Hayes remained adamant about the location. George had decided not to argue with the President. After all, he was the most powerful man on Earth, a man who looked extremely uncomfortable at this moment.

"George, I owe you an apology," Henry Hayes began. "You should have been invited here a long time ago. If I remember correctly, Gloria and your wife, Helen, were good friends for a while there."

"You remember correctly, Sir. Those years seem very far away right now."

"Yes, they do George. They certainly do. Life was a lot simpler then, wasn't it?" Henry said. "Then again, you didn't come to talk about old times, did you George?"

"No sir, I didn't," Hammond answered, taking the seat offered by Henry Hayes. "Sir, I came to talk about the charges filed against one of my people, Colonel Samantha Carter."

President Hayes nodded slowly. He looked away for the briefest of moments unable to meet his old friend's eyes. When he looked at George Hammond once more, he did so with the eyes of defeat.

"Yes, Samantha Carter, one of the most highly decorated officers in our military," Hayes admitted sadly. "A woman honored for feats most of us could never imagine, someone who's saved the whole planet more times than we know. Yes, George, I'm aware what's been done to Samantha Carter."

Hammond sat stiffly, watching the man he'd known for so long. Clearly, he knew more than met the eye. The phrasing he'd just used was telling. "Are you also aware that the charges are completely unfounded?" Hammond asked.

Ready for a polite rebuttal from the chief executive officer of the country and his Commander-in-Chief, General Hammond was taken aback by a totally unexpected response. The leader of the free world simply nodded.

"Yes, George. I'm ashamed to say, I am aware." The slow tortuous verbal response reflected the turmoil raging inside Henry Hayes. Time was up; it was time to call in all his cards, time to call Raymond Francis' bluff.

President Hayes was silent for long moments, taking in the puzzled look on his companion's face. When he spoke next, what he felt was akin to relief.

"Raymond provided me with 'evidence' that could pass. For most anyone else, in most any other circumstance, I may have believed it," he said sadly. "But not about Colonel Carter and not at the time of _his_ court martial; it's unbelievable _and_ too much of a coincidence. Obviously, it was a ploy to convince Jack O'Neill to back off."

"Then, excuse me, Henry, but why sign it?" Hammond asked, raising his voice in spite of himself and dropping the honorific intentionally. "What's going on here? And what do we do to stop it?"

"I know what _I_ have to do to stop it," Hayes said softly. "I should have spoken up long ago. I didn't have the balls, George. Maybe that's why I couldn't stick it out with you in the military. When it comes right down to it, George, I think I 'm a coward. Nothing else explains what I've done the past few years.

"It's strange you called when you did. I was about ready to call you," he admitted. "George, Francis has been blackmailing me for years."

"What are you talking about, Henry? You mean you've been paying him?"

"Not with money, George. The man's too smart for that," Hayes said, snorting derisively. "Cover-ups, bribes, witness tampering, making evidence disappear, things I assured myself never compromised national security, those are the things he's demanded."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Sir."

"Of course you don't. You see, Raymond Francis has abused the trust of those serving with him for years and he's certainly abused the trust and love of his wife. So he needed someone to cover for him, to make things go away. And I was the perfect ace in the hole for him," Hayes said.

"What does he have on you?"

"What doesn't he have on me, George?" was the answer. "It started out simple by today's standards. A long time ago I had an affair with Laura Francis. I believe I truly loved her George, but I didn't stand by her, even when she became pregnant. It was a long time ago, a time when those indiscretions spelled disaster for political ambitions. And was I ever ambitious, especially back then. Nothing was going to stand in my way. It didn't seem so hard to give Raymond what he wanted to keep his mouth shut. At the start it was fairly simple, a promotion, convincing a female airman he wasn't the miserable bore she thought he was, things like that.

"Of course it didn't end with that. Over the years I've done some fairly illegal things for Raymond to keep my secret. The blackmail started out about the affair. By the time Laura and I didn't care about that anymore, I'd done things that even today could ruin my political career. My actions were inexcusable. Sure, I rationalized them. This last promotion, I told myself he wouldn't be able to do much harm with you and O'Neill watching over him. Looks like I was wrong on that one too.

"Bottom line, on more than one occasion I've misused the powers of this and other offices I've held. What I allowed him to do to Samantha Carter, that's the end, George. It stops now."

"What are you going to do, Henry?"

"It's time Raymond and I faced the music. I'll share what I know about the charges against Colonel Carter with the convening authority. Hopefully, that will discredit most if not all the evidence at trial."

"But wouldn't it be better if General Francis renounced the charges for the record, saved Sam the misery of a formal court martial?" Hammond asked.

"Francis is a lot of things George, but a person who puts others before himself? I don't think so."

"Oh, we've got a plan, Sir," Hammond said. "And with you on board, Raymond Francis won't know what hit him.

TBC

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A/N: Glad to see the chapters are still getting lots of hits. Hope this means readers are still interested and reading! We are finally coming to a conclusion.

Please review and let me know what you think!


	30. Chapter 30 To Catch a Rat

A/N: Hope you are prepared to detest Raymond Francis more than you already do. He really is a "rat".

* * *

_In earlier chapters: "We need him to do more than drop the charges," Jack said. "We need him to admit they were unfounded in the first place."_

_"Oh, we've got a plan, Sir," Hammond said. "And with you on board, Raymond Francis won't know what hit him."_

* * *

CHAPTER 30: TO CATCH A RAT 

Sunday morning dawned clear and peaceful in Washington D.C. Raymond Francis sat alone in front of a large bay window in his suburban home. Normally, on Sunday mornings, he made quite the show of attending church services. Though his wife always refused to accompany him, he continued to go, successfully cultivating the favor and good will of the presiding minister and illustrious congregation. It wouldn't do for people outside his family to think badly of him.

Today, the morning before the opening session of his court martial, General Francis was forced to make an exception to his usual schedule. Unexpectedly, Christina Gilmore had called him. In anyone's book, her call was inappropriate given the current circumstances. Still, that hardly mattered to this man. Besides, she'd made him an offer he couldn't refuse, a way out. If the woman could be believed, she was open to a deal, one that would convince her to drop all charges on behalf of her daughter. _And besides paternity for the pathetic Gilmore child, what else could they possibly have?_ Francis thought smugly.

So it was with reckless optimism that Raymond Francis prepared for the mid-morning arrival of Christina. His wife, Laura, had stayed with their daughter last night, informing him at the last minute that she wouldn't be home. It was all the same to him, one less thing to worry about. Laura was becoming altogether too testy for his tastes lately. If he were honest with himself, this Christina Gilmore woman was more his type. A tall, limber, professional woman, dressing to attract a man, he'd been interested from the moment she appeared on his doorstep nearly three weeks ago. Her audacious rendering of demands did little to calm his less than professional thoughts.

His mind had wandered back to Jessica's mother many times in the past few weeks. The idea that she'd be the star witness against him was ludicrous. Perhaps all he needed to do was charm her, sweep her off her feet and she would abandon her foolish purpose. After all, women seldom refused him. He had money, power and astonishing good looks to his way of thinking. Of course, she was a bit older than his usual choices; then again, he saw himself as fairly open minded in that regard. He was willing to make an exception for a woman of her caliber.

As her Mercedes sedan pulled into the circular driveway just beneath his window observation perch, Raymond felt a sharp intake of breath. When Christina turned over the keys to Francis' chauffeur, allowing the vehicle to be parked in a designated area, he realized once again how lovely and appealing this very young grandmother was. _Grandmother to my kid, of all things,_ he thought. He supposed he could ignore that seemingly incestuous fact; he'd ignored other more glaring social taboos, so this shouldn't really be a problem, he thought.

The butler disturbed his lascivious train of thought as he announced Christina's visit with all of his trademark formality.

"Ms. Gilmore to see you, Sir," the servant announced.

"Send her in, Steven," Francis answered. "And be sure we are not disturbed."

"Yes, sir."

"Ms. Gilmore," he greeted her. "I've been looking forward to this meeting since your call last night. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Coffee would be fine, General. Thank you," Christina replied formally. She knew the time would come to adopt a more friendly tone, but not quite yet. She didn't want to seem too eager.

"Please, call me Ray," Francis encouraged hopefully. "Everyone does, you know."

"Alright, Ray it is," Christina said. "And since we'll be helping each other, call me Christina."

"That would be a pleasure," he replied, walking over with the coffee service Steven had prepared. Though looking forward to the possibility his current troubles might be coming to an end, the experienced intelligence officer knew better than to accept his good fortune at face value. So in spite of his attraction to the woman, he realized some well considered questions were in order.

"Excuse me, Christina," he began, settling into an arm chair set perpendicular to his visitor's. "You must know how interested I am in your proposition. The chance to have this nightmare disappear without formal proceedings is very attractive to me. Still, I must wonder, what could make this worthwhile for you. I thought you were hell bent on what you called 'justice' for your daughter."

"Of course Jessica's memory is of utmost importance to me, Ray. I'm a good mother. Always have been," Christina began in a self-righteous tone that resonated with Francis. "Still, there are many things to be considered here. I'm sure a man in your position can understand that."

"Things more important than your daughter's reputation? I have three grown children of my own, Christina. I wonder what you would consider more important," Ray asked without missing a beat.

"The living, I think things that affect the living are more important," she said. "Don't you agree, Ray? For example, the welfare of Jessica's son, Charlie. Raising a child doesn't come cheaply," she stated, looking directly at him, her meaning exceedingly clear. "After all he is your son too, now isn't he?"

Francis' face reddened without warning. _Here it comes_, he thought. _This bitch is going to try and extort me. Damn her. Well it may be worth it. God knows I've got the money._

"Christina, my lawyer tells me you have significant financial means of your own. How could I possibly help you with this child?" Francis questioned, feigning total innocence.

Christina smiled coyly, a look not wasted on Raymond Francis. "I'm sure you know how it is, Ray," she said, making it obvious she was scanning the treasures housed in this very room, "money is one thing you can never have enough of in this life. You must understand Charlie isn't my responsibility. I hardly intend to deplete my personal resources to support my daughter's illegitimate child, certainly not when his father can afford to do so. Of course, there is another alternative."

"And what would that be, Christina?" Francis asked. Despite his irritation, he had to admit this woman had spunk and a brand of morality akin to his own.

"You could take custody of Charlie and raise him as your own," she said flatly. Christina barely suppressed a chuckle as Francis nearly choked on his coffee at her suggestion.

"Well now, that most definitely will not be happening," he replied, trying to regain his composure. "So tell me, Christina, exactly how much money would you need to avoid depleting your personal resources?"

"I've talked with my financial advisor, Ray. It seems children are quite expensive these days. I'd say a quarter of a million, yearly, should be sufficient. To be deposited in a blind trust of course."

Francis snorted derisively. "What the hell makes you think I have that kind of money?" he queried. "I'm an Air Force general, not a fortune 500 CEO!"

"Please, don't insult my intelligence, Ray. I've researched your finances too. Seems your wife has pretty deep pockets and you reach in on a regular basis," Christina said calmly. "I'm just asking for Charlie's fair share."

"Okay, fine. Let's say I'm willing to pay this ridiculous ransom for my freedom. Would that be the end of it? Can you assure me you'd get the charges dismissed?"

"Not so fast, Ray," Christina replied. "I have another condition. I hope it's not a deal breaker."

"I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Maybe not, Ray. But I have to try," Christina said, putting down her coffee and standing up slowly. "From my observation you are a man of conviction. For a man like you, what I'm going to ask may be difficult to say the least. It would mean backing down from your principles."

Francis puffed out his chest even as Christina began to pace behind her chair. Seems this woman appreciated his long career in Air Force intelligence. It was good to know his stellar professional reputation had survived the rumors. After an appropriate pause to relish the assumed compliment, he replied.

"Alright, so what you're asking may be unethical. You're right of course, I can't guarantee it won't be a deal breaker, but why not tell me and we can decide together on the best course of action," he said, doing his best to join forces with a still unknown element, perhaps a new 'friend', even partner.

"Then here goes," Christina said. "In addition to the support money for Charlie, I need a favor. It involves dismissal of other court martial charges. To be specific the charges you filed against Colonel Samantha Carter."

Francis meaningfully cleared his throat and stroked his chin, giving Christina the impression he was deep in thought about her proposal. As far as he was concerned, he couldn't give a damn about Samantha Carter one way or another. He was only doing this to save his own skin and here it looked like it was working. Still if he played it right, he could get Christina even further into his corner.

"Christina," he began with a deep sigh, motioning her to return to her chair. "What you said about this being a deal breaker. That might be true in this case. I'm sure you know treason is a serious charge."

"Of course, Ray," she replied. "And most people would never make it lightly. Except people like us of course; we do what we need to do. I think we're alike in that."

General Francis was confused. Was she saying sticking to his beliefs was admirable in her eyes or was she assuming he had the gumption to do whatever was necessary to get what he wanted? He'd have to hear more before he could decide.

"Christina, why would you be interested in Sam Carter?" he asked, realizing he needed the answer to that question as well. "Who is she to you?"

"If you must know, Ray, I'm not doing this for Colonel Carter," Christina said, sporting a flattering, demure blush. "It's her friend, Jack O'Neill."

"And …" Francis prompted, wondering where this was going.

"And … I don't want him to be so miserable," she supplied, a look of genuine sadness shadowing her features. "I think there's something going on between those two. He's pretty upset about her recall and arrest."

"So, you and O'Neill…?"

"No, not yet, unfortunately, Ray. Of course, it's not because of lack of trying on my part. But you see, if I can rescue his girlfriend, he'll be very grateful to me. It'll give me several points in the right direction as I see it."

Now it was Raymond Francis' turn to stand up and stretch his legs.

"You're quite the little schemer, aren't you?" he said.

"And proud of it, Ray," she answered, a youthful twinkle of hope in her eyes. "Can you help me?"

Ray started to laugh. It was a deep, sonorous laugh that seemed to come all the way from his toes. It gave Christina pause.

"May I ask what's so funny," Christina said indignantly.

"My apologies, lovely lady," Ray said charmingly. "Please understand it's been a long time since I've met someone I've understood so thoroughly."

"Really? I'm not sure I like that."

"Oh, don't be that way. I think we understand each other quite well, Christina," he said.

"So, you'll do it?"

"How do I know you can get O'Neill to drop the charges against me?"

"If you understand me as well as you claim, you should believe I can do whatever I put my mind to Ray."

"True enough," he replied, certain he'd prefer to work with this woman than against her.

"Don't worry, I won't expect action on the Carter charges until your situation is resolved," she said. "However I do expect the first deposit on Charlie's stipend."

"Of course you do, my dear," Ray said. "I'd expect nothing less."

They exchanged conspiratorial smiles as Francis went for his checkbook.

"General O'Neill will be quite grateful to both of us, I'm sure Ray," Christina suggested.

"I wouldn't count on that," Ray suggested. "He'll be pissed, just like he is now."

"Why would he be?" she asked, her voice conveying sincere puzzlement. "I think he'll be in your debt for letting Sam Carter off."

"Oh, my dear, I'm disappointed in you," Ray said mysteriously.

"You mean the charges were unfounded after all," Christina said in a tone indicating sudden recognition. "You sneaky bastard! You manipulated all of this so O'Neill would let you off," she continued, admiration in her voice. How'd you pull it off?"

Raymond Francis was in his glory. The best a confirmed narcissist can hope for is the unbridled adoration of those around him. And to Francis' way of thinking, this was it. This beautiful woman was enamored of his skills.

"There are always ways, my dear. All that's needed is to know the right people."

"So none of the evidence they're worried about is accurate?"

"I'm afraid not. The saintly Samantha Carter is boringly pristine. That's why I had to get as creative as I did."

"But the witnesses, Jack says there were airmen ready to testify against her."

"Everyone makes some enemies in their lives, Christina. I'm sure you have and I know I have. And money has a way of motivating them to say whatever is needed. As you said, I do have money."

"What about the emails, correspondence in her own hand?"

"Obviously, you haven't a full appreciation of the skills of a senior intelligence officer," Francis said with more than a hint of pride. Emails are easily forged as are any sort of print document these days. And pictures can tell any story you'd like them to tell."

"Obviously," she said, looking duly impressed. "Sounds like you would make a formidable enemy, Raymond Francis."

"That I would, lovely lady," he said, mentally sizing her up once again.

"So, it seems as though we have an understanding, General, I mean, Ray," Christina said, deciding it was time to leave.

"I believe we do," he agreed.

"Then I'd best be going," Christina said. "I'll need to catch up with Jack O'Neill before the end of the day and make this happen. Wish me luck."

"Good luck," he said perfunctorily.

Raymond Francis was confident he'd negotiated a reasonably successful arrangement, one which he had no intention of fulfilling on his end. _Women are so gullible_, he thought. But as he walked Christina to the door, his short lived victory came crashing down. Giving his new stooge one last lustful appraisal, he caught sight of a tell tale imperfection in the set of her blouse. To anyone else, the slightly puckered material would have meant nothing. But to a lifelong intelligence agent, its meaning was indisputable.

"You're wired, aren't you," he stated as fact.

"What? Of course not, Ray, don't be foolish," Christina said, attempting to make her way to the door.

"Oh no, you don't," Raymond sneered menacingly. While screaming the erstwhile order, he grabbed the retreating woman by both shoulders and spun her around forcefully.

"What are you doing? Get your hands off of me," Christina yelled.

"Get over here," Francis barked, pushing Christina up against the nearest wall. "Now are you going to give me what I'm looking for or do I have to take it off of you?" he asked.

Fortunately Christina, working as part of the "Catch Francis" sting operation, had backup waiting in the wings for just such an eventuality. Within seconds of the General's accusation, three figures sprinted from the non-descript van where they'd been recording the incriminating conversation.

Bobby Cramer reached the front door slightly ahead of Teal'c. Bringing up the rear was Jack's security chief. While the security officer took out Francis' bodyguard, Bobby Cramer used his military experience to efficiently break down the door. Teal'c wasted no time running through the suddenly wide open entrance and making his way toward Christina's screams.

Without further ado, the large, very aggravated Jaffa pulled Francis from Christina and threw him against the wall, holding him effortlessly inches off the ground. Francis struggled uselessly, sputtering obscenities and demanding release.

"Do not give me a reason," Teal'c said in a frighteningly calm voice. "I would be most honored to be the means of your death."

TBC

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A/N: This chapter was surprisingly easy to write. Hope you liked reading it as much as I liked writing it.

Thanks to everyone still reading, especially all of you who review so faithfully. There's still time to add your voice and opinion. All comments very much appreciated by this very insecure writer!!!

Please push the little button and let me know you're reading!!


	31. Chapter 31 Switching Places

A/N: Thank you for all the feedback I received on the last chapter. Reading all your comments I realized I've given our favorite main characters short shrift lately. Sorry, but I hope to make up for that very soon. Also for you shippers who have stuck with it so far, I promise some very significant Sam and Jack moments.

And just for fun, I started a forum on the site for discussion of this story. Check it out and feel free to leave related topics.

* * *

_Last time: Without further ado, the large, very aggravated Jaffa pulled Francis from Christina and threw him against the wall, holding him effortlessly inches off the ground. Francis struggled uselessly, sputtering obscenities and demanding release._

_"Do not give me a reason," Teal'c said in a frighteningly calm voice. "I would be most honored to be the means of your death."_

* * *

CHAPTER 31: SWITCHING PLACES 

Shortly after Teal'c handily pinned Francis to the wall, Jack came running into the General's home. He'd been waiting in the back up car with two military police dispatched from Bolling.

"O'Neill, thank God," Francis choked out around Teal'c's fist. "Tell this Neanderthal to let me go! Now!"

"Sure, Raymond, no problem," Jack complied. "Let him go Teal'c. We've got it covered."

With that, the MPs stepped forward and cuffed the bamboozled blackmailer. Francis was beside himself with rage.

"What are you doing? Get your hands off of me!" he screamed. "O'Neill, what's the meaning of this?"

"Good question, Raymond," Jack said. "What is the meaning of all this? False charges of treason, multiple counts of fraternization, bribery, and that's just for starters. Some record, I'd say."

"You've got no evidence!" the accused man shouted.

"Sure we do, Raymond," Jack replied pleasantly enough.

"You mean that illegally gotten tape? It'll never see the light of day, Jack. You know it and I know it," Francis huffed smugly.

"We beg to differ, General," Bobby Cramer said. "We obtained permission for electronic surveillance and the necessary warrants from the sitting Judge Advocate General. It's all above board, Sir. And by the way, a warrant for search of these premises is on its way as we speak."

"Yeah, Raymond," Jack said, trying not to smile too widely. "Looks like you and Carter will be switching positions tonight. I can't think of anyone more deserving of a bed in the stockade."

"I'll get you O'Neill! This isn't over, not by a long shot," the handcuffed, sputtering man threatened.

"No, it's not, Raymond. You're right about that, there's more to come," Jack said, enjoying the man's discomfort. _If only he knew the half of it_, he thought. "Take him away boys. They're waiting for him at Bolling."

As Jack watched the MPs escort Francis from his home, Bobby Cramer did his best to calm a still shaking Christina Gilmore.

"You did great, Christina," Bobby said. "You got him right where we wanted him."

"You think we got what we needed?" Christina asked, still doubting her work.

"Absolutely," he assured her, placing a steady hand on her shoulder.

"Okay then," she said, "a job well done."

"I'll drive you home," Bobby offered. Christina nodded; the two left as the next group of MPs arrived with the awaited search warrant.

OoOoOo

Several hours later, Jack turned the key in the lock of his front door. No doubt about it, he was weary. It had been a long day.

Now as the clock on his mantle struck midnight, he dragged himself through the front door with a happy heart and his favorite Colonel right behind him.

"Jack, I think I should go to a hotel tonight," protested his reluctant guest. "I'm so tired I'm not going to be very good company."

"I thought we covered that when I sprung you, Carter," he said. "No hotels for the smartest woman on the planet. I won't have it," he added, dropping her small satchel and turning around to face her.

"So you're pulling rank?"

"No, I'm pulling … friendship?"

"Friendship?"

"We're being honest here, right?" Jack asked. "Honestly, I'm hoping for more than friendship."

"Really?" Sam asked teasingly.

"Yeah, I think we have a little more than friendship started here," he said. "Remember your last visit to my house, Carter."

"Carter? You're not getting much past friendship if you keep calling me Carter," she replied. "I thought we'd gotten past that last time."

"Hey, I need more practice, that's why I want you to stay here with me again," Jack said, doing his best to play coy.

In spite of her intent to torture him, Samantha Carter's lips turned up into a gentle smile, a smile that grew gradually until a full fledged giggle escaped her mouth. Soon, a confused Jack O'Neill was laughing too. Both "more than friends" took two hesitant, joy filled steps towards each other. Before they knew it they were wrapped in each other's arms.

"No giggling," Jack whispered into her hair.

"But I haven't had anything to giggle about for nearly a week and now, now I'm giggle- happy," Sam whispered into his chest, snuggling in tightly.

"Giggle-happy? Carter, that's not even a word!"

"So," she asked, pulling back just enough to flash her blue eyes at him, daring him to go on. And he did, go on that is. He went on to kiss her.

OoOoOo

Several kisses later found Jack O'Neill and Samantha Carter sitting side by side in the living room. Jack's arm was thrown over Sam's shoulders, pulling her close. Their silence was comfortably charged with attraction and love.

"Sam?"

"Mmm?" she replied dreamily.

"How are you?"

"You have to ask?"

"You know what I mean, after the past few days and all."

"Are you talking about getting zapped by the Valerian force field, accused of treason by the country I've dedicated my life to defending or kissing a marvelously handsome General?" she asked, all on the same breath.

Jack smiled at her and shook his head. He wondered how even Sam could keep it all straight. "Okay, all of the above," he said, his eyes holding hers. "How are you?"

"Not sure," she answered wistfully. "It's a lot to take in, all of it. The force field, ending up in the infirmary, that's to be expected. Kissing you," she stopped and smiled a glorious smile in his direction, "well, that's … that's amazing," she said, reaching up to caress his face briefly. "The stockade experience… I don't know … I don't know how to take the fact my own people didn't trust me."

"You do know most everyone at the SGC was lining up to testify on your behalf?"

"Yeah, Bobby claims they clogged up his answering machine, jockeying for position on the witness list," she said.

"That they did, Sam. And I was first in line," Jack said.

"Of course you were," she said, gratefully, "never a doubt about that. Still, it hurts to think anyone believed I could do those things."

"Yeah, I get it," Jack said. "Don't think it would have happened if Hayes wasn't being blackmailed."

"You're right. I suppose I have to remember that," Sam said. "It's not all about me, is it? I'm sorry, Sir, even knowing what went on behind the scenes, I can't help being angry."

"Sam, for once I understand everything you said, except for the 'Sir' part," he quipped, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

"Fine," Sam protested indignantly, "I need practice too, S … I mean Jack."

"Okay then, practice it is," Jack said realizing he was enjoying this little banter immensely. "While we're practicing each other's names, what do you say we talk about where we go from here?"

"Here, we, as in 'us', Jack?" she teased, definitely torturing him now. "You mean you _want to talk_?"

"Yeah, I want to have _the_ talk before I lose you back to Atlantis," he said. "Think we can do that?"

"Yes, Jack, I do," Sam said. "But would it be terrible if we got some sleep first? We are due at Bolling at 0700, that's what, five hours from now."

"So it is, Sam," he agreed. "Someone we know is facing court martial. And I wouldn't miss it for the world. So right now, sleep it is."

TBC.

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A/N: As always, comments and thoughts much appreciated. 


	32. Chapter 32 Seeking Justice

_"Yes, Jack, I do," Sam said. "But would it be really terrible if we got some sleep first? We are due at Bolling at 0700, that's what, five hours from now."_

_ "So it is, Sam," he agreed. "Someone we know is facing court martial. And I wouldn't miss it for the world. So right now, sleep it is."_

* * *

CHAPTER 32: SEEKING JUSTICE

Clutching their coffees, two highly decorated Air Force officers left the O'Neill residence long before sunrise. True to their promises the night before, they engaged in a spirited, future-oriented conversation during their thirty minute ride to Bolling.

"So, what do we want, Sam? A long distance relationship?" Jack asked, looking straight ahead, even though she was the one doing the driving. He really didn't want to have Sam that far away again, but if that's what she wanted, he'd go along with it. "Remember, Atlantis is _really_ 'looooong' distance," he said stretching the dreaded word for emphasis.

"_I_ want a relationship with you, no matter how long distance it has to be for right now," Sam said. "It's time." Then casting a quick forlorn look in his direction, "But I agree, me being in Atlantis is a bit too far."

"Okay," he said with some relief. "So we're in agreement there. That's good, very good."

"One thing to be in agreement, Jack, but what do we do about it?" Sam asked, wishing she had as many good ideas for this relationship as she usually did for saving the world.

"I could get myself reassigned to Pegasus," Jack offered.

"The President and Joint Chiefs would love that, no doubt," she quipped.

"Then what?"

"Maybe it's time for me to come home," she said tentatively.

"You'd do that? I know how excited you were to get the posting. It's quite an honor."

"I suppose it is, Jack. At least it was at the time," she said, doing her best to concentrate on her driving. "In case you haven't noticed things have changed."

"Yes they have," he affirmed solemnly.

"If I'm honest, part of the reason I jumped at the posting in the first place was to run away from my feelings for you," she said softly, almost hoping he hadn't heard the admission. "I don't want to run anymore."

There was silence for a few moments, the kind one sees on those telephone commercials when the line cuts out and one party is dying to know what the other is thinking. Though silent, Jack turned to face her. Sam was staring straight ahead at traffic, purposely ignoring his gaze.

"You? Run?" Jack finally asked, confused by the concept. "Really?"

"Yeah, I can be a real coward sometimes," Sam admitted, "but let's not talk about that when I'm driving, okay?"

"Sure. Us 'feelings cowards' have to stick together," he said, gratified to hear Sam's appreciative chuckle.

"Let's be sure we figure this out before I have to leave again. Promise?" she asked.

"Promise," he responded instantaneously. "If we don't make it happen now, I'm afraid something or someone will take the chance away from us."

"We've had enough close calls, haven't we, Jack?"

"Yep."

OoOoOo

Though not the original plan, General Francis' unexpected arrest had moved his court martial to Bolling Air Force Base. Within an hour all the principles players would be assembled and in their places. Now, one hour before the opening gavel, Jack, Sam, General Hammond and Bobby Cramer sat together in a conference area adjoining the courtroom, awaiting the arrival of Christina Gilmore.

"Francis is going to be mighty surprised to see everyone in chambers today," George Hammond declared, clearly looking forward to the moment.

"I suppose he will," Sam said, her voice flat.

"What is it, Sam?" Jack asked catching her less than upbeat tone.

"I'm thinking of all the damage he's done over the years. What you told me on the way to your place last night; it's unbelievable what he's gotten away with over the years."

"A lot can be covered up when you head a spy agency and have the most powerful man on the planet in your pocket," Bobby said.

Right then, an airman knocked and announced Christina's arrival, "Ms. Gilmore is here, General."

"Send her in, son. And thank you," General Hammond said.

Sam walked over to meet Christina as she entered the office.

"I want you to know how grateful I am for all you did yesterday," Sam said. "It might have taken a lot longer for me to get out of here if you hadn't been willing to run the sting on Francis."

"I'm glad I could help," Christina said sincerely. "The man deserves to be taken down; from what I know of you, we need you out there fighting for us."

"You can say that again," Jack agreed as he came over to stand by Sam. "How are you this morning, Christina? You ready for this?" he asked perfunctorily, knowing she had little choice.

"Absolutely," Christina answered. "It's past time to string up that bastard."

"What about little Charlie?" Jack asked. "How's he feeling? That ear any better?"

"He's still sick, Jack," she answered. "He doesn't seem to be feeling any better. Actually, as soon as today's session is over, I'm taking him back to the pediatrician."

"Sorry to hear that," Sam said.

At that moment, there was a commotion in the hallway. The MP interrupted once more, announcing new arrivals. When the door opened, one of the two faces revealed was very familiar.

"Can we join the party?" Daniel asked, leading the way. He was followed by a petite brunette who looked happy to blend into the woodwork.

"Daniel," Sam said, walking over and giving her friend a warm hug, "I was wondering what had happened to you. Last I knew …"

"Jack forgot to tell you I was back on Earth, didn't he?" Daniel asked, scowling at his friend.

"Hey there was a lot going on," Jack said. "Anyway, are you going to introduce your guest?" Jack asked in a polite tone, nodding towards the woman standing behind Daniel.

Before Daniel could answer, another voice interrupted.

"I'd like the honor, it you don't mind, Dr. Jackson." It was none other than John Sheppard who joined the group.

"Colonel, what are you doing here?" Sam asked, suddenly concerned, wondering who was minding the store in the Pegasus Galaxy.

"Ma'am, with all due respect, no need to worry, Atlantis is well covered," John said. "Colonel Caldwell was more than willing to stand in for both of us."

_I'll bet he was_, Sam thought, recalling Caldwell's poorly concealed envy of her leadership role on the station.

"As I was saying, Sirs, Ma'am," John said, "I'd like to introduce a new witness against General Francis. This is Rebecca Osterhouse, the widow of Stanley Osterhouse," he said.

"Senior Airman Osterhouse, the airman you told me about, son?" Hammond enquired recalling their conversation from nearly a week ago.

"Yes, sir."

"Welcome, Ms. Osterhouse," Bobby Cramer said, stepping in to shake her hand. "I was hoping you'd be able to make it. After the formal charges are read, I'm looking forward to deposing you."

"Dr. Jackson convinced me to come," Rebecca replied, smiling at Daniel. "He told me what I had to say could make a difference. It's about time I stood up to the man who caused my husband's death."

John Sheppard looked at the demure thirty-five year old widow and smiled encouragingly. "Yes, it is," he said, "and Francis is going to get exactly what he deserves."

OoOoOo

It wasn't that Raymond Francis' lawyer didn't do his job. In fact he'd bent over backwards to prepare his arrogant, ungrateful client for what awaited him this morning. Bobby Cramer had dutifully advised Mr. Ammering of the wide variety of testimony now arrayed against his client. The well known attorney had conveyed all of this to General Francis, strongly urging him to accept a plea. But no matter what Bruce Ammering said, Raymond Francis insisted that most of the threatened testimony would never come to pass and that anyone who believed it was a complete fool. An experienced defense attorney, his lawyer knew better than to argue with a client like Francis.

So it was that the sixty year old Air Force General walked into the conference room set aside for his court martial with head held high. It never occurred to him in his wildest dreams that he would be brought down. After all, he'd played fast and loose with friends, family, and enemies alike for years, with little consequence. Accompanied by his lawyer, he marched straight to the defense table. Before taking his seat, he turned to take in the crowd gathered behind him. For a moment his lungs forgot to draw breath.

Arrayed directly behind the prosecution's table were a sea of Air Force uniforms, set off with stars and other high ranking insignia. Generals Hammond and O'Neill were there of course, accompanied surprisingly by Hammond's superior, General Mancini. Seated directly behind them was Christina Gilmore, again no surprise, but her companion was none other that Colonel Samantha Carter, looking proudly vindicated in her dress uniform.

Next to Colonel Carter sat the lumbering giant who'd jumped him at his home yesterday. Directly behind him sat a civilian he recognized as Dr. Daniel Jackson, along with John Sheppard and none other than Rebecca Osterhouse. _How dare they! Those traitors_, he thought.

But the sight that shocked Francis the most was in the third row of the gallery. On the aisle sat Henry Hayes, President of the United States of America. Directly on his right was his wife Gloria, and next to her none other than Laura Francis.

When he remembered to breathe, Raymond Francis' eyes flashed with unrestrained rage. His immediate instinct to lunge for these people, especially his traitorous wife, was restrained only by the shackles he still wore and the warning hand of his attorney.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33 Consequences

_When he remembered to breathe, Raymond Francis' eyes flashed with unrestrained rage. His immediate instinct to lunge for these people, especially his traitorous wife, was restrained only by the shackles he still wore and the warning hand of his attorney._

* * *

CHAPTER 33: CONSEQUENCES 

The opening session lasted less than two hours. It was enough time for charges to be read and opening statements delivered. When it was over, Raymond Francis was returned to the stockade to await Tuesday's session.

The experienced military man, now facing career ending disgrace, was finally beginning to realize the seriousness of the charges. All efforts by his high priced private defense attorney had been for naught when it came to requesting pre-sentence release. As a man accused of extorting the Commander-In-Chief of the Armed Services, Raymond Francis was considered a serious risk to national security. There was no way he would see the light of freedom again short of exoneration or the end of any prescribed term of imprisonment.

He was in shock. A full blown narcissist, Francis never considered the possibility he could be brought to justice. In point of fact, he didn't consider the possibility that any of his actions were wrong, at least in the light of his own distorted code of morality.

The days that followed did little to improve his outlook. Whereas listening to Robert Cramer's opening statement and his review of the charges shook his insulated world, hearing the witnesses against him boggled his mind. These were people either he or Henry Hayes had paid off in one way or another over the years, people he assumed were out of his life for good. Among them, Rebecca Osterhouse, a woman he remembered well. He'd gone to great lengths to frame her husband in an attempt to throw him off the trail. _How could they say he'd had a hand in killing the man? The coward had committed suicide after all_, _hadn't he_, Francis thought.

Laura Francis attended each and every session; at least one of the Francis children attended each session as well. To Raymond's dismay, instead of sitting behind the defense table, his children sat with their mother, clearly showing support to Raymond's traitorous wife. He never thought his children would turn against him. Stuck in his own way of thinking, Raymond Francis couldn't imagine a scenario where his own flesh and blood would abandon him, even for their mother.

Bruce Ammering did the best he could with a very poor case. The prosecution literally threw the book at General Raymond Francis, clearly intent on drumming him out of the service and discrediting any and all actions he'd taken. Witnesses to his misappropriation of funds, endless fraternization and bribery, were plentiful. And still, Mr. Ammering's attempts to convince his stubborn client to consider a plea fell on deaf ears.

By Thursday, President Hayes took the stand. Fully aware of the likely political fallout, Hayes and the JAG lawyers were also aware that without his testimony it would be impossible to convict Francis on the top charge of the indictment, extortion. To that end, the members heard a calm recitation of instances where the man now holding the highest office in the land gave in to his blackmailer's demands for special favors, promotions and behind the scenes influence, all in an attempt to cover his own transgressions. Despite protests from the White House Chief Counsel, Henry Hayes remained on the stand over an hour, subjected to a ruthless cross examination.

As Jack O'Neill and George Hammond watched Henry Hayes that afternoon, they recognized a man doing his best to speak the truth in spite of the political cost. Doubtless, the savvy politician knew his rivals would be watching. It went without saying that his career would be forever marred by his admissions; whether his Presidency would survive at all was a fair question.

By the end of Thursday's session, all but one prosecution witness had been called. Bobby Cramer had saved Laura Francis for last. He knew Henry Hayes would be the more dramatic of the two, but along with the President, he hoped to spare Laura the final ignominy of testifying against her husband. If Francis had any sense at all, he'd realize the die was cast and spare his family any more pain. Then again, they were talking about a man who was the epitome of narcissism.

Of his own accord, Raymond Francis had no intention of doing anything that might obviate the need for his wife's testimony. For their part, the prosecution wanted an ironclad case, one that guaranteed the accused would be confined for the rest of his natural life. So it seemed Laura would take the stand on Friday morning, publicly discussing the private misery of her life in hopes of holding her philandering husband accountable.

That was until Melinda Francis talked with her father.

Raymond Francis always said Melinda was his heart. On this one matter, he was right. At thirty years of age, Melinda was his second child, born four years after his eldest son, David. She'd fulfilled the cliché role of daddy's girl from her earliest moments. With Melinda, Raymond felt stirrings of fatherly responsibility and the all too fleeting desire to be a good, honorable man. Her influence had never been enough to change his overall personality, but it was something. If anyone could reach him, it was Melinda.

"Dad?"

"Mindy," he answered softly, entering the visiting area. "I'm so glad you've come. You haven't given up on me, have you?"

Melinda was a slight figure of a young woman, normally shy and retiring. But today was different. She'd had long talks with her mother over the past few days. What she'd heard had explained much of the strangeness of her upbringing, not to mention her parents' estrangement.

"Dad, I want you to make a deal," she said simply.

"What?" he asked. "Don't worry, sweetheart, it will be okay. They won't get me."

"It's not okay," Melinda differed, knowing he misunderstood her. "I don't want you to do this to Mom."

"Me? _Your mother_ has chosen to turn against _me_," Raymond Francis said indignantly. "Did you know she served me with divorce papers yesterday?"

"As a matter of fact I did. It's something she should have done a long time ago," Melinda said, her voice quiet but firm in its resolve. "She's had enough, enough of the constant abuse and humiliation. Don't think I don't know about everything. You're not that good a secret agent."

Raymond looked at his little girl in disbelief. In his personal delusion, she still believed he could do no wrong. He would tell anyone else to go to hell. But this was Melinda. He'd consider what she had to say.

"Please Daddy, don't do this to Mom," she pleaded. "End this now, for you, for all of us."

OoOoOo

Everyone, including Jack O'Neill was taken aback when Raymond Francis filed a guilty plea Friday morning, effectively ending the court martial. Sentenced to a twenty year term in a military prison, Francis may have lost his freedom but not his arrogance or his desire for revenge.

And so it was on Saturday morning the Washington Post carried the following headline: **Hayes Abuses Presidential Powers**.

As anticipated, the vultures were circling and there was a price to be paid for justice.

OoOoOo

Jack O'Neill and George Hammond were summoned to the White House at 1900 hours the following Wednesday.

The invitation was unexpected and the reason for the summons a mystery. They assumed it had something to do with the plethora of partisan backstabbing that occupied the headlines ever since Hayes' testimony and the information Francis leaked to the Post.

"George, Jack, come on in," Henry Hayes greeted them as his secretary showed the two in. "Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No sir," George Hammond replied. "I'm going to assume you didn't call us here for a social visit."

"Right you are, George," Hayes replied. "Truth is, I'm meeting with all my department heads and chief military officers. Given what's happened the past few weeks, the two of you deserve to be included as well." With this he paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "I'm resigning effective tomorrow."

Jack called upon all his inner military reserves to maintain a strict poker face as he heard the news. After all, it wasn't his place to state an opinion. Hammond was not as circumspect.

"With all due respect, Sir," he said, "is that necessary? Surely you can mount a defense against whatever the opposition is alleging."

"I believe it is necessary George," Hayes replied. "What they're saying about me is true. I did misuse the powers of this office and positions in Congress over the years. I did it to pay off my blackmailer."

"Sir, from what we've heard, none of this put the security of this country at risk," Jack said, daring to voice his opinion.

"That's not the whole issue, now is it, Jack," Hayes said rhetorically. "Much as I appreciate your loyalty, you know it and I know it. How do I expect colleagues, my political opposition, or for that matter, the American public, to trust a president who gives in to personal extortion, has for years. I wouldn't. Right now, I wouldn't vote for me.

"They want to impeach me. I've done things, compromised myself in ways no President should. Can I fight impeachment? Absolutely. Should I fight it? I don't think so."

"What then?" Hammond asked.

"An orderly transition of power," Hayes said. "The vice president is highly qualified. She'll be good for the country."

TBC

* * *

A/N: As you can tell, we are coming to the end of the part of the story dealing with Raymond Francis' crimes.

I'd like to write a few more chapters focusing on developing Sam and Jack's relationship and tying up loose ends with some of the original characters. So please stay tuned.

As always, I'm craving feedback.

Please review.


	34. Chapter 34 On Leave

A/N: Thanks to everyone continuing to read and review!

* * *

Last time: _"What then?" Hammond asked._

"_An orderly transition of power," Hayes said. "The vice president is highly qualified. She'll be good for the country."_

* * *

CHAPTER 34: ON LEAVE

Lucida Montoya was coming to the end of her first week in office. When she first agreed to step in for the disgraced Robert Kinsey as President Hayes' running mate, she realized it could come to this; she knew the day might come she'd be President. Still, with a popular, relatively young, political savvy President, the possibility had seemed reassuringly remote. Now, she _was_ the one in charge, the most powerful _woman_ in the world.

Truth was, she'd been preparing for this all her life. In her mid fifties, President Montoya was a Washington fixture and an experienced politician. Having served as Senator from the state of Arizona for ten years, her progression to the executive branch was historic but not totally unexpected.

Her first week in the Oval Office was chock full of challenges. The winds of change were everywhere, staffers were in shock, and anger and disbelief were rampant in the halls of power. Hayes' resignation had shaken senior officials and young neophytes alike. The 'loyal' opposition was circling, hoping to bring the party down altogether. Whereas Montoya wasn't overly concerned about the party, she was concerned over the safety and security of her country, one she'd sworn to defend. Her top priority was to establish a government that could once again inspire trust and confidence. In order to do that she needed to straighten out the unfinished business her predecessor left behind.

This afternoon she was meeting with the last and hopefully final victim of the Hayes scandal. After a week spent catching up with her abruptly abandoned post, Colonel Samantha Carter was returning from Atlantis. Her first stop in Washington was the White House, where she'd receive an official apology from the new President and the United States Air Force.

When briefed on the aborted court martial charges against Samantha Carter, Lucida Montoya had recoiled in disgust. Henry Hayes, a man she'd respected had signed off on those charges, knowing they were trumped up by his blackmailer. Montoya was grateful Francis' house of cards had come tumbling down before any more damage was done to Colonel Carter.

Sam Carter's exploits had occupied Montoya's imagination since the day she'd learned of the Stargate program. To Montoya, the younger woman was a genuine American hero, someone who exemplified the best the military had to offer. So it came as no surprise when the falsely accused, highly decorated officer accepted her nation's apology with gracious professionalism, willing to enthusiastically continue in the service of her country. As far as President Montoya was concerned, Sam Carter was a woman of unparalleled dignity and dedication.

OoOoOo

Though willing to return to the service of her country in a galaxy far, far away, Sam opted to take the leave she had coming, a month's time in total, before returning for another six month stint on Atlantis. Hammond and Montoya could hardly deny her. Between Colonel Caldwell and John Sheppard, there was little doubt Atlantis would be in good hands. Even McKay would survive.

While he realized Sam would need time to process the last few days, Hammond was surprised when she actually agreed to take it. Typically, the Sam Carter he knew would watch over her station, making sure no else had designs on her command. Now, she seemed content to let two men who'd initially debated her right to command, cover for her voluntary absence. Something was changing for Samantha Carter and George Hammond was fairly certain he knew what it was.

If he'd had any doubts, they were quickly dispelled by the next leave request that crossed his desk. Penned by one Jack O'Neill, the request specified a two week period of time that appeared to suspiciously coincide with the beginning of Sam Carter's leave. When he saw it, scrawled in Jack's rather sloppy hand, Hammond smiled the broadest smile he'd sported in many a day. _It's about time_, he thought. _I'm lucky he didn't ask for the whole month._

As it was, a two week absence by the Head of Homeworld Security, coming as it did on the heels of the same man's medical leave, made for a difficult situation for others in Home Ops. Coverage was never a simple issue, given the security clearances involved. But for Jack, he'd make it work; for Jack and Sam, his friends, it was the least he could do.

OoOoOo

Jack arrived at his cabin in the Minnesota wilderness exactly twelve hours before Sam Carter was due at the MSP International Airport. This would work out just fine, he thought. There was a lot to get ready. Besides, traveling separately might ward off some of the rumors. Even though there were no longer any actual regulations keeping them apart, it would be easy for lots of busybodies to get the wrong idea.

He could hardly believe they'd have two whole weeks together. Without work, without Thor, without the intrigue of Washington or the danger of Atlantis, and without Daniel or Teal'c; it would be just Jack and Sam. He couldn't predict where the time would lead, but he hoped sincerely it would lead to something permanent. He knew he was ready. He hoped she was too.

With a hopeful heart, whistling like there was no tomorrow, Jack set out to clean the cabin. Well, at least straighten it up. It was one thing to live alone in the equivalent of a bachelor's hunting cabin and another to have the lady he loved spend romantic time here. Though cleaning was not his favorite past time, especially on vacation, for Sam, Jack made an exception. By the end of the afternoon, the place was immaculate. He'd brought fresh flowers with him to brighten things up. He had steaks ready for the grill and a bottle of Chardonnay chilling.

Sam had vetoed Jack's plan to pick her up at the airport, insisting he had enough to do and she was more than capable to renting a car. Reluctantly, Jack had given in; he had an idea he'd be doing a lot of that in any relationship with a woman as strong and independent as Sam Carter.

It was a two hour drive from the airport to the secluded O'Neill cabin. As much as Jack wanted to meet her and bring her safely to him (it was a fairly nasty day in a nasty Minnesota winter), he settled for the next best thing. She'd agreed to let him handle renting the car for her. So he did.

When Sam deplaned, gathered her luggage and went to pick up the car, she found a bright red four wheel drive Jeep waiting for her. More tired than she expected from the flight, she hefted her bags inside and wearily positioned herself behind the wheel. As she did so, her eyes caught the surprise waiting for her. There, positioned delicately on the passenger seat lay a single red rose accompanied by a small envelope.

Through her fatigue, Sam's lips moved into a soft smile, knowing Jack was behind this. Opening the envelope she read his first message.

"_Glad you made it! I wish I was here to meet you, but I know you can make it on your own. Besides I suppose I need to learn patience. Since I'm not there yet, please check under the seat and follow the directions you'll find there."_

_What is this about?_ Sam wondered. She didn't have to wonder for longer. Following the simple direction, she reached under the driver's seat and found a cell phone, with a small note attached. _"Please push one on the speed dial."_

Secretly grateful for the delay and the respite it gave her from today's wild travel schedule, Sam did as the note suggested. Seconds later she heard the voice she expected.

"O'Neill."

"Jack, I'm here," she said. "I'm at the airport, only two hours from the cabin."

"Two hours too long if you ask me," he said.

"I know and I feel stupid," she said. "I'm sorry."

"You, stupid? This is going to be good," he quipped.

"I should have let you pick me up," she said. "If I hadn't been so stubborn I could be kissing you now, not waiting another two hours."

"That's music to my ears," Jack admitted out loud, trying not to say "I told you so". Instead, "So are you good to drive, or too tired right now?"

"I'm fine, Jack," she said. "See you soon. Actually, it'll be sooner than soon, if I can help it."

"Sam … drive carefully, okay?" he said, hoping he wasn't sounding too much like a parent.

"Don't worry, I will," she answered. Promise."

OoOoOo

Sam was right on schedule. Two simple bags came with her, along with a bit of nervousness and angst. This little vacation had been a long time coming and she didn't want to wreck it. Last time she'd been to northern Minnesota with Jack, the guys had come with them. It had been right after her dad's death and she'd needed the time away with her "family". Now things were different. She and Jack were different. They were ready to change the status quo. In fact they'd begun to do just that over the past month or so. This was the next step.

She loved him. It was really that simple. Sam Carter loved Jack O'Neill. So what was the problem? She'd already told him, hadn't she? So why was she so nervous?

As Sam pulled onto the final small road leading her to the cabin, she admitted to herself what was really going on. It was one thing to say "I love you", another to decide what to do about it. In her heart, she knew this was the time to decide.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hope all the Jack and Sam shippers liked this one! Think you'll like the next chapter even better!!

**More thanks from me:** thanks to all who nominated my stories for the Stargate Fan Awards! I was very pleasantly surprised!


	35. Chapter 35 The Cabin

_As Sam pulled onto the final small road leading her to the cabin, she admitted to herself what was really going on. It was one thing to say "I love you", another to decide what to do about it. In her heart, she knew this was the time to decide._

* * *

THE CABIN 

In February, northern Minnesota was a winter wonderland.

It was a wonderland Sam Carter had thoroughly enjoyed over the past three days. The time had been idyllic, just what she needed. From the moment she'd arrived, full of hopes, expectations and carefully controlled fears, Jack had been nothing short of incredible. He'd been so glad to see her. She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice, and feel it in his every touch. He loved her.

Much like their ability to work as part of a polished military team, she found that blending their personal styles was easier than she'd expected. His humor had gone a long way to smoothing out any rough spots over the past three days. But on the whole, it was easy to be with Jack, so easy. Any doubts about what she truly wanted had been quickly put to rest. She wanted a life with Jack O'Neill.

Now, in the early morning, long before dawn on their fourth day, Sam sat alone in front of a slowly dying fire. Unable to sleep, sitting here by the fire, looking out the window at the gently falling snow was preferable to tossing and turning the next few hours.

Jack was right, it was beautiful here. In her heart, as much as she enjoyed the natural beauty of this isolated, wild country, Sam knew it was Jack O'Neill's beauty that truly captivated her. What's more, she knew without a doubt he felt the same way about her.

It's what she'd been waiting for ten long years. The chance to … what? As the brilliant author of the groundbreaking textbook on wormhole physics sat wrapped in a well worn blanket, she pondered long standing questions. What to do now? Where to go from here?

She loved him, no question there. The past few weeks, in spite of the Raymond Francis nightmare, had allowed them to freely express their feelings for the first time. They'd admitted their love for each other, kissed, promised to make plans for the future. And here they were, enjoying each other's company, but seemingly at a standstill again. They were waiting, waiting for someone to make the first move to bring the relationship to the next level.

Sam knew exactly what she wanted. Marriage, public commitment to the man she loved. And she wanted children, knew he did too. That was the whole problem.

Months ago, Sam had been seriously injured. Hit by a staff weapon blast during one of her last missions with SG1, she'd suffered massive internal injuries. Once she'd regained consciousness after surgery, the SGC medical officer explained that along with her spleen, one ovary had been removed and she had significant scar tissue surrounding her uterus. As if her earlier run-ins with Tokra symbiotes and alien entities weren't problematic enough, the chances of her conceiving and carrying a child to term had been cut in half. _Maybe with a little luck_, she thought.

Who was she fooling? Both the SGC doctors and a private specialist had told her it was unlikely she could have a child. At the time, though disturbing, she'd taken the news in stride. After all, Jack seemed out of reach. But now, now the love she'd wanted so long was within her grasp. How could she ask him to sacrifice all hope for a child of his own?

_Enough of this! I can't just sit here all night,_ Sam thought, throwing on her jacket and walking outside. She needed to move, get rid of some of her nervous energy. She began to walk the well lit path that circled the cabin. _Yes this is better _she thought, _up and moving_. And that's what she had to do with Jack too. She had to find out; they needed to make the decision together. She couldn't make it alone.

These past three days had been a luxury, a preliminary to the real work they needed to do. Cross-country skiing and snowmobiling had been the order of the day. Sipping cocoa, sitting around the fire, sharing hopes and dreams, holding each other, was the order of the night. There'd been no pressure. Sam had given herself time before tackling the more serious matters. Jack had sensed her reticence and he'd played along, waiting for her.

But they didn't have a limitless supply of days; it was time. She decided to talk with him today.

OoOoOo

By 0600, Sam had come back inside and ended her reverie. She'd put on the coffee and started breakfast. As the aroma of the Columbian blend began to fill the kitchen, she gratefully poured herself a cup and let it warm her. She knew Jack O'Neill well enough to realize he'd be up within the hour, even though the sun wouldn't. She was gathering her courage as she sensed his presence behind her.

"Sam?"

She turned to see Jack in the doorway, a quizzical smile on his face. "How long have you been up?" he asked.

"Awhile," she said cryptically.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked. Then with concern, "What's going on?"

Sam didn't answer, walking over quietly to hand him a steaming cup of coffee. She smiled gently and then sat down at the table, gesturing for him to do the same.

"You okay?" he asked, unable to avoid worrying over her strange demeanor.

"I'm fine, Jack," she said, looking at him intently. "You?"

"Sam, what is it?" he asked. _It's been too good to be true, these past few days_, he worried. _Maybe she's had enough_, _figured out I'm not what she really wants._

"We have to talk," she said, "I don't think I can wait anymore."

"You mean that talk about our future," he said, taking a sip of his coffee. In spite of the easy camaraderie they'd enjoyed the past three days, something was wrong. Whatever it was, he wouldn't blame her.

"You're right. We're both pretty good as putting off the hard stuff aren't we?" Jack said, steadying himself for the other shoe to drop.

"Yeah, we are," was Sam's simple reply. Then she lapsed into silence, starting to stare out the window at the gradually brightening sky.

"So?" Jack prompted.

"So, I need to tell you something before we go any further," she said. "I think it might change things for us. You have a right to know."

Jack looked at her, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. She looked so serious, and so wide awake. And sad, did he mention sad?

"Sam, you can tell me anything," Jack said. "Nothing will change how I feel about you." Jack knew his statement was sincere; he hoped she realized the depth of his feeling. Though his heart might break, he steadied himself to accept whatever she had to say.

Sam was quiet for what seemed an eternity. Then, "Jack, I don't think I can have children," she said, feeling her heart sink as she spoke the words. It was so unfair; now that she was ready, it was unlikely she'd ever be able to have what she'd waited for so long.

"Okay," Jack said tentatively, realizing this wasn't about him. "What's happened? Tell me," he said tentatively reaching across the table to take her hand. He was relieved when she reached back and finally looked him in the eyes.

Her eyes brimming with the tears she'd fought all night, Sam told him about the damage from the staff weapon and the surgery. These were the details she'd made sure were omitted from the official reports to Home Ops after that ill fated mission.

In spite of her overwhelming love for this man, she feared she would disappoint him, fail to give him something he wanted so badly. She watched him closely as he took in the news.

"I'm sorry, Sam," he said, seeing the pain in her eyes.

"Me too," came the reply.

"You think … you think I won't want you if you can't have children?" Jack asked, finally getting the message. How could she…

"I don't blame you," she said. "You should have someone who can give you …"

"Stop, stop right there," Jack said, getting up to stand in front of her. "There's no one else I _should _have, no one else I _want_." Slowly, Jack had reached behind him to pull over a chair and now sat facing Sam, her hands held in his. As he reached forward to wipe away a tear from her cheek, Sam cried all the harder.

"I know how much you want children," she said. "You deserve …"

"Sam, do I deserve to be happy?"

"Of course you do."

"To be happy, I'm gonna need one particular woman. She's blond, brilliant, beautiful and blissfully loving. No replacements, understand? If we can have children, it'll be great. If not, we'll be each other's family. I love you and I want to make a life with you."

Sam closed her eyes for a moment, fatigue finally catching up with her. "I want that too," she admitted.

"Good."

OoOoOo

Jack had always been able to make her laugh. That morning was no exception. Once he'd been convinced Sam wasn't ready to run, he'd relaxed. Subconsciously, he set out to convince the woman he loved how much she meant to him. He wanted her to be secure in that knowledge. It hurt him to think she doubted it.

After a hearty breakfast, Jack and Sam dressed in their winter gear and set out on a cross country ski trip through the woods. This had been part of their routine each day since they'd arrived. Today was no exception. The exercise was bracing and invigorating, not to mention a great way to sample the breathtaking scenery.

By the time they returned to the cabin, it was mid afternoon. The snow had picked up and Jack was grateful he'd thought to do some shopping in town yesterday. There was a good chance they'd be snowed in for a day or two.

"Wow that was some hike!" Jack said, propping his skis up outside and dragging himself through the front door. "I'm starving, how 'bout you?"

"A little hungry," she answered.

"A little hungry?" he asked. "Oh … I suppose we could wait to eat …"

"It's just that I have something to ask you first," Sam said, her nervousness starting to come back. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not," he said. "Should we change first or …?"

"If it's all the same, I think I better do this while I still have my nerve."

"Sure," he said, kicking off his boots. "Just let me get the fire going, I think I'm loosing feeling in my toes."

Once a respectable fire had started, Jack pulled two chairs directly in front of it and sat down in one, indicating the remaining chair to Sam. How he wished he could cuddle up with Sam on the floor, but he knew those days were gone; with his knees, he'd never get back up.

With a deep sigh, Sam finally sat down. As she did so, she reached behind her, taking a small box from its hiding place behind the magazine rack.

"Sam?"

In response, Sam looked at him intently, her eyes catching his gaze, refusing to let go, pleading for understanding.

"This is for you," she said, handing him the elegant jeweler's box.

Jack didn't know what to think. The last time Carter had handed him a ring box, the bottom had fallen out of his world. But with her eyes begging him to open it, what else could he do?

As it snapped open in his slightly trembling hand, Jack's eyes were drawn to a thick platinum band engraved with what could only be the glyphs of Earth's Stargate address. Looking up for a moment at Sam, he saw a hint of moisture in her eyes. She nodded for him to take the handsome ring from the box. Doing so, he caught the inscription delicately placed inside the ring. It read simply, "Always Home".

Holding the ring in his right hand, Jack looked up at the woman before him one more time. With questioning eyes, he mouthed "What?" and waited for the reply.

To Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter had never looked more beautiful. With tears slowly falling, and a gentle smile on her lips, she said, "It's an engagement ring. It's yours if you'll have it … and me."

TBC

* * *

A/N: What do you think???? 


	36. Chapter 36 Yes, Yes and Yes

_To Jack O'Neill, Samantha Carter had never looked more beautiful. With tears slowly falling, and a gentle smile on her lips, she said, "It's an engagement ring. It's yours if you'll have it … and me."_

* * *

YES, YES AND YES

Looking into Sam's eyes, Jack swore he could see her soul. The vulnerability staring back at him was humbling. It called forth a fierce protectiveness he hadn't experienced in years. He'd do anything to assure her happiness.

She was asking _him_ to marry _her_. It was astounding. She wanted him, as husband, lover and companion. _She_ was asking. The idea was spot on, actually it was his, but she'd beat him to it. Sam was asking _him_ and the effect on his psyche was powerful.

Jack held her eyes, reaching to wipe away her tears with his free hand. He could feel moisture pooling in his own eyes; it threatened to fall as his hand slid down to cup her cheek. While Sam leaned into his touch, a peaceful smile on her lips, her eyes remained locked with his. Silently, their hearts spoke volumes.

Jack feared he'd break the spell if he uttered a word. Surely they could communicate all that was needed with their eyes. To that end, he willed Sam to hear his thoughts, his commitment. But finally, he needed to hear his own words.

"I want to wear your ring," he said, his voice husky with barely contained emotion, "and I want you with all my heart." His declaration was rewarded with a glorious smile on the face of the woman he loved. "Will you put it on for me?"

Wordlessly, her eyes glanced down momentarily. Sam slipped the carefully created band on her chosen mate's ring finger and looked up to meet his eyes once more.

"I love you," she said.

"I love you," he replied, taking her face between his hands and gently drawing her towards him for a kiss.

When their kiss ended, recovering from the wonder of the moment, Jack looked down at his ring.

"This is incredible workmanship. How did you …?" he asked.

"I have my ways," Sam said teasingly. "If you must know, I had some help from Teyla."

"Teyla? The alien woman on Atlantis? Do tell," he said.

"Well it seems Teyla is very intuitive. Remember right after your accident?"

"Yeah, mighty hard to forget _that_," he replied.

"She knew how disturbed I was," Sam explained. "Didn't say much about it right then, especially after I shut her down. But she came to certain conclusions based on my actions and a certain picture I keep in my office."

"So you talked with her about us?" Jack asked.

"Not exactly. You know me, like you, I keep things pretty close," Sam said. "Teyla put two and two together. We talked a little and after you and I had our first video chat from Atlantis, I asked her to help me."

"Buy a ring?"

That comment earned Jack a less than approving Carter look, the kind he always got when he tried to play dumb.

"No," she said impatiently. "I've yet to see a jewelry store on Teyla's home planet. However, the Athosians _are _skilled craftsmen, and some are talented metal workers. The rest as they say is history."

"That explains it," Jack said matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"The reason I didn't recognize the box," he said. "I _am_ a connoisseur of fine jewelry after all." With this quip, he did his best to keep a straight face.

"You!" Sam exclaimed, getting ready to playfully sock him in the arm.

"Hey, before you do any damage to the new fiancé, I have something for you, too," Jack announced, glad that the mood was lightening a bit.

"Yeah?"

"Be right back," he said, dashing into the adjoining bedroom, whistling all the way.

Before she knew it, Sam was faced with a gingerly kneeling Jack O'Neill, ring box in hand.

"The first part of this proposal was great, but not what I'd call traditional," Jack said. "All the more reason for the incredibly painful, self sacrificing kneeling you see going on here," he said, his lips curling in a quirky, self satisfied smile.

Genius that she was, Samantha Carter didn't need a lightening bolt to realize what was about to happen. Without thinking, she sank down to her knees and threw her arms around Jack's neck, holding him against her.

"Hey, just because you got to go first, don't you think a guy gets to have his say too?" Jack asked indignantly. This resulted in a barely controlled fit of giggles from Sam, even as she covered his face in feather soft kisses.

"Okay, I'm sorry," she said. "I promise to listen. After all, I've been waiting a long time for this. By the way, you can get up. I want you in one piece, you know."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jack said gratefully, realizing this position could leave him in pain for a long time. With Sam's help he pulled himself up to the chair and returned to his original plan.

"Sam, first of all thank you," Jack said. "Let's face it when it comes to this sort of thing, I'm a coward, pure and simple. I've had this little box and the gem inside for two years. If you'd left it up to me, no telling how long it would have taken.

"I love you, Sam. I have for a very long time," Jack admitted. "Until today, I wasn't sure exactly how you felt about me. What you just did, well, now I know. And that frees me to do this.

"Samantha Carter," he said, taking her hand in his, "I will wear your ring proudly on one condition: that you wear mine as well," he said. "And agree to be my wife."

"Yes, of course," Sam whispered, holding back the tears that threatened yet again. She held out her hand and Jack slipped on the delicate band he'd had engraved with their names and the simple word "Always".

OoOoOo

Two hours later, Jack and Sam managed to pull themselves together enough to start an evening meal. "Stars in their eyes" would have been an appropriate description of the newly engaged couple.

"Do you want a long engagement? Sam asked out of nowhere, while Jack sliced tomatoes.

"Do I want a long engagement?" He parroted back. "Hey, give me a minute here; a lot's happened in the past two hours. What are you thinking?"

"I'm sorry, Jack," she said, coming to stand next to him. "It's just … well … I'm going back to Atlantis in three weeks. That's another six months in a galaxy far, far away. I don't know that I want to wait that long."

"What did you have in mind?" he asked.

"I was wondering how long it takes to get a marriage license in Minnesota."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and reviewing. It is always so encouraging to hear from you.

At this point, I'm sad to think about this story ending. I have a few ideas, plot bunnies that have been planted earlier on and will continue for a bit until the well runs dry or until readers seem to be bored, whichever comes first.


	37. Chapter 37 Wind Beneath My Wings

"_What did you have in mind?" he asked._

"_I was wondering how long it takes to get a marriage license in Minnesota."_

* * *

CHAPTER 37: WIND BENEATH MY WINGS 

Seems General Jack O'Neill knew exactly how many days it took to get a marriage license in Minnesota, as well as the District of Columbia and the state of Colorado.

"Five days," he said aloud. _Yeah, just happened to know_, he thought.

"What do you think?" Sam asked.

"About the five day waiting period?"

"Jack… you know what I mean."

"You want to get married, here, now, in Minnesota?" Jack asked.

"You wanna wait?" Sam countered

"No, but I thought you'd want … well, you know, a real wedding … a dress and everything," he said.

"All that stuff is overrated, if you ask me," Sam replied without skipping a beat. "All that matters is us."

"_That's_ been a long time coming, hasn't it?" he asked rhetorically.

"Yep," Sam said, "but now it's our time, if we choose it."

"Hey, fine with me, more than fine in fact," Jack said. "You know how much I _love_ to dress up in monkey suits. All I really want is to marry you."

"See, that's exactly how I feel," Sam agreed. "If we wait till we return to Washington, the whole thing will get bigger and bigger; we don't have time to plan a big wedding. And I don't want to wait till I return from Atlantis."

"I can second that," Jack said. "But you know, I'm not gonna change my mind, no matter how long we wait."

"I know," she said. "Wild horses and all that, right?"

"Something like that, besides Teal'c and Daniel ..."

"They'll forgive us," she said confidently, knowing they'd make it up to their friends. "So do you know someone who would marry us here on short notice?"

"As a matter of fact I do," Jack said with a very self satisfied smile.

OoOoOo

Mike McShea was eighty years old. Confined to a wheelchair for the past two years with intractable arthritis, he'd retired to the wooded area of northern Minnesota nearly five years ago.

As luck would have it, Mike's small cottage sat no more than a mile from Jack O'Neill's more spacious cabin. Though Jack had little thought of socializing with neighbors when he started to spend time at the cabin, he soon made an exception for Mike. The man's irrepressible humor and the fact that he liked both hockey and Guinness likely had something to do with their fast friendship.

For the past few years, at least one night of each trip to the cabin included some time with Mike and his family. Playing poker, watching hockey or the Simpsons, and drinking Guinness passed the time most nights. Some others, the conversation turned to more serious matters. More than once the conversation included Jack's feelings for a certain blond astrophysicist with whom he worked.

During one of those conversations, shortly after Jacob's death, Jack had come clean with Mike about his feelings for Sam. Only a month after Sam had come to the cabin for the first time, Jack had bemoaned the fact he'd failed to make his move that week. It was then Mike McShea offered to marry them should Jack ever get his act together. As a man intimately acquainted with special coincidences in this world, Mike was sure it would happen, when the time was right. And as a retired Roman Catholic priest, Father Mike McShea would be there when his friend needed him.

OoOoOo

"Mike, are you home?" the stern female voice bellowed from the doorway. "Come on, let me in, I've got to talk with you about that e-mail you sent."

"Hey, hold your horses, Lizzie, I'm coming," he said. "Where's the fire?"

"Don't you 'where's the fire me'", Mike's sister, Lizzie Gallagher said, daring her older brother to contradict her. "What do you mean you need me and Matthew 'to witness a marriage'? You're retired, Michael McShea!"

"Now don't get your panties in a knot, Lizzie," he said, very accustomed to bickering good naturedly with his sister. "I'll always be a priest as long as I'm alive. I'm still allowed to celebrate the sacraments and I'm still recognized by the state of Minnesota as able to marry consenting adults. What's the problem?"

"Fine, when's the last time you performed a wedding ceremony?" Lizzie asked. She lived two miles down the road from her brother and worried about his health all the time.

"Why Lizzie?" Mike asked defiantly. "What exactly are you worried about?"

"Well ,what do these people expect? You're sick, you can't be stressing for them."

"It's Jack O'Neill, Liz," Mike explained, certain this would relieve his sister's mind. "He's a simple man. You know him. You like him, for cryin' out loud!"

The mention of Jack's name gave Lizzie pause. "Yes I suppose I do," Lizzie admitted, "but…but he's teaching you bad habits. Besides …you haven't even seen these two for premarital counseling, Mike. That's always been against your principles, marrying couples you haven't counseled."

"These two are a safe bet," Father McShea said, his brogue picking up as he warmed to the discussion. "Jack says Sam's 'the wind beneath his wings'; Sam tells me he's her hero, and she means it. They love each other and they're old enough to know better. Believe me, I've married all kinds in my life. These two are lifers. They've been waiting for each other a long time."

"Fine, do you have the vow formulas, Mike? Do they have the license?" Lizzie asked, always the stickler for details.

"Don't worry, they've written their own vows and they have the license," Mike replied. "We just need you and Matthew as witnesses. And for God's sake, be nice."

OoOoOo

Lizzie and Matthew made their way to the McShea cottage on Saturday morning, just five minutes before the betrothed couple arrived. Her attitude much improved, Lizzie had come round to her brother's way of thinking and Matthew, well, Lizzie's twenty year old grandson thought General O'Neill was 'way cool', so he was delighted to be included.

Jack and Sam were casually dressed in ski sweaters and warm trousers as if on holiday. Clutching the license and wedding bands, they skied to Father's McShea's. While this was unlike any wedding either of them could recall, this was _their_ wedding. The day had finally come and they were thrilled. Like two kids in a candy shop, the middle aged officers who'd saved Earth on more than one occasion, had finally taken time for themselves. Even more surprisingly, they'd planned a wedding with "no pressure", no appearances to worry about, just the sincerity of the promises they were making.

Today would be the quiet, unassuming beginning of their married life together. Here away from the lights of the city, the attention of the powers that be and even the well wishes of their friends, they'd make their vows. There would be time for everything else later.

Now was their time.

In the cozy front sitting room of Father's McShea's cottage, Jack and Sam stood with their witnesses and the retired man of God. And with the sincerity and trust born of true love, they spoke their promises to each other.

TBC


	38. Chapter 38 Revelations

A/N: Thank you for your continued interest in the story. This chapter will serve as a transition into the next section of the story and we'll see where it takes us.

OoOoOo

_Last time: In the small front sitting room of Father's McShea's cottage, Jack and Sam stood with their witnesses and the retired man of God. And with the sincerity and trust born of true love, they spoke their promises to each other._

* * *

REVELATIONS

He'd never been sentimental.

He prided himself on his realistic appraisal of most every situation.

This morning was different. This morning, Jack O'Neill woke a married man for the first time in over thirteen years. Snuggled beside him in his king sized bed was his new wife, Sam Carter, now O'Neill.

From what he could tell, Sam was still fast asleep, her breathing slow and even, her body completely relaxed as he held her. He'd fantasized about this for so long, he had to remind himself he was awake and his dream was finally real.

They'd made love last night for the first time. That surprised him too. Here they were, two middle aged, worldly military officers, waiting till _after_ the wedding. Old fashioned or not, Jack knew it felt right to wait. He'd made love to _his wife_ last night. Not his second-in-command, not a friend, not someone he "was seeing" but the woman he'd promised to love for always. As far as he was concerned that made the experience even more incredible.

He laid holding his wife now, basking in the glory of their love and knowing earlier decisions led them to this sublime happiness. There was a reason they'd denied themselves so long. The fierce devotion he felt welling up in him now was beyond anything he'd felt for Sam in the past. The regulations were there for a reason; Jack knew, feeling how he felt now, he could never send Sam into danger. If anything ever happened to her, a part of him would cease to exist. He knew it.

OoOoOo

She was a rational woman, wedded to science for most of her adult life.

Sure, there had been outbursts of emotion, moments where she'd been in love, felt out of control, given in to feelings, instincts, or needs. There'd been moments, not many, but some, when she'd acted on impulse.

Those moments were different. Everything paled in comparison to this.

This morning, Sam Carter, now O'Neill awoke to the welcome knowledge that she was married to the man she'd loved for years. And finally, she was taking her husband's advice, enjoying the moment and not dwelling on how long it had taken to get here.

She was certain Jack was sleeping. His breathing was even and he was still. So Sam allowed herself to revel in the sensations of being with her husband, lying in his arms, cradled against his body. She loved him, wouldn't change a thing about him. She knew in the depths of her soul that he loved her as well.

Jack's love had always been there, whether or not she'd chosen to see it. Yesterday had been one more confirmation. She knew it was the last reassurance she would ever need. Finally it was clear; Sam Carter was home. She was comfortable with herself and secure in the love of her husband.

Jack was her _husband_ now. That simple, traditional designation put her amazingly at ease. There was no need for excuses, rationalizations, sneaking around with friends, superiors or anyone. They were married. Even the military would recognize their status now, regardless of any future shifts in chain of command.

Tempting fate, Sam risked waking her sleeping lover. She reached up tenderly to stroke his face. She wasn't surprised to find he was already awake, simply waiting for her.

"Good morning," Jack whispered into her hair.

"Good morning, yourself," she answered softly, pulling back to meet his eyes.

"Beautiful ceremony…"

"Beautiful night …"

"Yes," he said, "and it's only the beginning."

OoOoOo

The newlyweds spent another five days at the cabin after the wedding. On the fifth day, they prepared to return to Washington. In the space of two weeks, they'd been able to plan for the future, secure in the knowledge they'd be together, if only in their hearts for awhile. Fortunately, Sam had two more weeks before she was due to return to Atlantis. It wasn't long, but it gave them two more weeks to adjust to life as a married couple and, most importantly spend time with each other.

Before any of that could begin, they needed to navigate their way through the maze that was Dulles International Airport.

Sam and Jack expected to find Derrick waiting for them at the airport with the Towne Car. So after collecting their luggage, the two mildly harried passengers made their way onto the main concourse. There they found myriads of drivers and chauffeurs, many of whom carried placards with the names of their employers. Sure enough, Jack's eagle eye spied the O'Neill surname prominently displayed over to the left of the concourse.

"There he is," Jack cued Sam. "Almost home."

As they approached the driver they assumed was Derrick, it became obvious they'd mistaken the man's identity. Definitely shorter than the General's lanky driver, this man had a build like … it couldn't be, could it? Oh yeah, it was.

"Daniel," Sam all but shouted as she saw her friend. "What are you …?"

Before she could finish, she stopped in her tracks when her eyes caught Daniel's companion.

"T.!" Jack exclaimed, glad to see his good friend, but quickly overcome with a little guilt at the big surprise they had for their friends. "What are you doing here, big fella? You guys don't look like chauffeurs to me."

"Uh, well, we made a little deal with Derrick," Daniel confessed. "You see Teal'c's leaving for home tomorrow and we wanted to spend a few hours with you guys before he leaves."

With that, Sam threw her arms around Daniel, giving him a warm hug. As she did so, Teal'c caught sight of the rings on her finger. Silently, he gave Jack one of his meaningful looks. Jack simply nodded.

A moment later Daniel and Teal'c traded places and Sam proceded to greet Teal'c just as enthusiastically. Bending to pick up Sam's bag, Daniel also caught a glimpse of the telltale rings. As usual, he was not as circumspect as his Jaffa friend.

"Jack ..?"

"Daniel …?"

"Jack …"

"What?"

By now Sam had released Teal'c and the four friends stood facing each other. Jack smiled sheepishly at his friends and pointed at his own set of rings.

OoOoOo

In a small coffee shop, hidden off the beaten track in Dulles, four high-level US military operatives huddled over a corner table. Though serious, this conversation had nothing to do with national security. Instead, two newly married officers did their best to explain their elopement to one very upset friend.

"Jack, all I'm saying is, I wish I had been there," Daniel protested.

"I believe Daniel Jackson feels slighted, O'Neill," Teal'c calmly observed.

"Not you?" Jack asked.

"As always, I understand you sometimes make decisions with which I disagree," Teal'c explained in his most dispassionate manner.

"Et tu, Teal'c?" Jack quipped, feigning hurt.

"Okay, boys, enough," Sam said at last. "Daniel, Teal'c, we really are sorry you weren't there. But we didn't want to wait. You know how something always comes up? Well, this was our time, for once."

"Yeah, what Sam said," Jack added. "Besides, we are going to need a party when Sam gets back from Atlantis next year. We're thinking about getting married again. Consider yourselves the first two invited guests."

OoOoOo

Their slightly humorous, good natured apology morphed into a full fledged luncheon. By the time the commandeered Towne Car made its way into the O'Neill driveway, it was late afternoon. On the way home, Teal'c and Daniel were invited to spend the night; that way the old team would have more time to visit before Teal'c left for an indefinite period of time.

As the arrangements were made, Sam rolled her eyes at her new husband. Jack shrugged in response, but got the message loud and clear. Much as they loved Daniel and Teal'c, this is exactly what would have happened at the cottage. And they had needed the time alone. Much as they felt a bit guilty now, the elopement had been right for them.

In any case, the four friends settled into an easy camaraderie that evening. Rather than cook, once the major unpacking had been done, they ordered out for Chinese food, Jack's idea of course.

As they were waiting for dinner to arrive, Jack excused himself from the group.

"I suppose I'd better check messages," he said, realizing vacation was over. "The world might need saving or something."

"Don't joke about it," Sam replied seriously.

"Point taken," was Jack's equally serious response as he began the playback.

Less than a minute into the messages, Jack hung up the receiver and made his way back to the group. His face told the story.

"What is it?" Sam asked, walking up to him.

"It's Charlie," Jack said, his voice catching. "He's sick. Christina says he's in Pediatric Intensive Care."

TBC

* * *

A/N: I wrote this during a miserable week at work – one of the longest ever. It was a good distraction. Hope you enjoyed it. I'm talking with some plot bunnies for the next few chapters. 


	39. Chapter 39 In Sickness and In Health

A/N: Thanks to everyone for your kind comments, especially after the last chapter and my miserable week! This chapter continues the transition of the story, particularly with more backstory on some of the original characters. Rest assured, Jack and Sam will remain central to the story.

OoOoOo

_Last time: "What is it?" Sam asked, walking up to him._

"_It's Charlie," Jack said, his voice catching. "He's sick. Christina says he's in Pediatric Intensive Care."_

* * *

CHAPTER 39: IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH 

No one got much sleep that night. The friends lost track of time as they caught up with each other, talking long into the early morning hours. And Jack, well Jack couldn't get Charlie out of his mind.

Dawning dark and drear, the next morning came all too soon. A light snow was falling throughout the Washington metropolitan area. Daniel and Teal'c were packed before sunrise, scheduled for a mid-morning flight. While Teal'c returned to Chulak for an indefinite period of time, Daniel had been recruited for a relatively long term mission with SG16. And of course, Sam would be returning to Atlantis in less than two weeks. It would be some time before the original SG1 could be together again.

Understandably, mood mirrored weather as the four warriors, turned family, said their bittersweet goodbyes one more time. Then, not more than thirty minutes after finishing a hearty beer omelet breakfast, Daniel and Teal'c were whisked away in the official vehicle the Air Force sent for them.

The visit was over almost before it had begun. As their friends pulled away, the cloud of Charlie's unknown condition hung over Jack, while Sam stood pensively by his side.

"You're worried, aren't you?" Sam said once the car pulled out of sight.

"Yeah, I am," Jack said, his heart flashing back to his own Charlie. "This kid's just a baby. Babies should never be that sick," Jack said. "Do you mind if I call Christina, you know, to find out how he's doing this morning?"

"Of course I don't mind," Sam answered. "I'm sure she appreciated your call last night. And if you're going to the hospital, I'd like to come with you."

OoOoOo

It seemed harmless enough at the time.

Bobby and Eileen Cramer were deployed to Iraq in 2004, a full year into the conflict. They didn't expect to see front line duty. After all, they were lawyers, Air Force JAG to be exact. As such they were to oversee the legalities of military life in a chaotic war zone.

Not the most pleasant assignment, but they'd seen worse. A one year tour for each; they could handle it. What's more, with the help of their extended family, they were certain their children could handle it as well.

Three years ago, the Cramer children were well adjusted, happy military brats, having grown up with both their parents employed by the US Air Force. Until that time, neither parent had been taken out of the States for a prolonged deployment. But in 2004, things changed for everyone.

As pre-adolescents, thirteen-year-old Anne and eleven-year-old Denise were struggling to gain their independence. Five-year-old Justin was ready to begin kindergarten. When Eileen's parents had offered to care for all three children, the two military lawyers felt their children would be in good hands. And they'd be home in a year, or less if they were lucky. It wasn't as though they were leaving them with strangers. It seemed Bobby and Eileen had everything in control.

But nothing turned out as they'd planned. Less than one month into the ill fated deployment, Eileen Cramer was on her way to a local government building where two Army privates were being arraigned on charges of assaulting an Iraqi national. Traveling in an armored Humvee, she'd felt secure. Then the nightmare began.

Without warning, the transport struck an IED, causing it to flip over and catch fire. Of the five military passengers, Eileen Cramer was the only one to survive the initial blast. She never regained consciousness, succumbing within the first twenty-four hours.

As luck would have it, Bobby had been in the same township and his whereabouts was well known at the time. He'd been located almost immediately and brought to the base hospital. There he kept vigil at his wife's bedside. In the few hours he had left with Eileen, he cried like a baby, realizing she was gone and his children motherless. The self recriminations had begun there and then. How could they have been so foolish? How could he have agreed to this assignment?

Now Bobby Cramer sat in another hospital, watching and waiting with a new friend.

It happened unexpectedly. This friendship, if that's what it was, with Christina Gilmore had happened when Bobby least expected it. Once Jack O'Neill had gone on leave and the Francis court martial was over, she'd needed a friend, especially when Charlie got sick. And to his surprise, Bobby had needed someone as well.

OoOoOo

Jack called in and alerted Madelaine he'd be delayed on this, his first day back to work. Accompanied by Sam, he made his way to University Hospital where he found Christina in the pediatric waiting room. Slightly disheveled in a T-shirt and crop pants, no make-up and less than perfectly coiffed hair, she hardly looked the high fashion model this morning. Then again, those who cared for sick children had little time for themselves.

As he walked closer, Jack noticed she was not alone. Sitting next to Charlie's beleaguered grandmother was the sixteen-year-old daughter of his friend, Bobby Cramer. Anne Cramer was talking quietly to Christina Gilmore, all the while looking earnestly into her eyes.

"Morning, ladies," Jack called quietly as he and Sam stood directly in front of the Christina and Anne.

"Jack, thank you for coming," Christina said. "And Sam, I'm so glad you're here."

"No, don't get up, Christina," Sam said as the other woman made to get up and greet the newcomers. "You must be exhausted. Can I get the two of you coffee, breakfast, anything?" Sam asked.

"No, Bobby's off getting some breakfast right now, should be back any minute," Christina said. "Just come wait with us, okay?"

"Bobby's here?" Jack asked, as he and Sam took the seats directly across from Ann and Christina

"Yes, Uncle Jack," Anne said with a smile, "Dad's been here all night with Ms. Gilmore. I got here this morning."

Jack wasn't sure what was going on between his old friend and his new acquaintance, but that was hardly the most important issue right now.

"How's Charlie?" he asked, moving on to his reason for being here.

Christina paled at the simple question. "Not good, Jack," she said, "and they can't seem to figure out what's wrong with him."

"How did he end up in the hospital?" Sam asked.

"The infection, it kept getting worse. Nothing they gave him seemed to make any difference. The doctor says the infection has spread through his bloodstream now, septicemia they call it."

"And they don't know why he's so sick?" Jack asked, wondering if these doctors were up to the job.

"They say his immune system is failing," Christina said, clearly overwhelmed. "They're doing tests. But we almost lost him yesterday."

"That bad?"

"I'm afraid so, Jack." It was Bobby Cramer who spoke, returning with coffee and bagels from the cafeteria. "Charlie stopped breathing last night. They called Christina at 0300."

"I'd gone home for a couple hours; I knew I shouldn't have left," Christina admitted guiltily.

"You have to rest," Bobby said gently, placing his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of support.

"That's right Christina," Sam concurred. "How long …?"

"How long has Charlie been here? Nearly a week," Christina said, "and he's only getting worse."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Again, another transition chapter, setting the stage for the remainder of the story. 

Hope you're still with me!


	40. Chapter 40 When One Door Closes

A/N: I have to admit, I got some good ideas from all of your reviews for the next pieces of this story. Look for your contributions.

_OoOoOo_

Last time : "_How long has Charlie been here? Nearly a week," Christina said, "and he's only been getting worse."_

* * *

CHAPTER 40: WHEN ONE DOOR CLOSES

The O'Neills stayed with Christina and the Cramers for nearly three hours. By noon, Jack knew he needed to leave and resume his duties at the Pentagon. With Sam, he said his goodbyes, promising to return later that night.

"Thank you both for coming," Christina said, her eyes filled with tears. "I really appreciate it."

"We'll be back," Sam said. "And we'll help in anyway we can."

Christina had no idea the lengths Sam was willing to go in order to fulfill that promise. That morning, even Sam was unaware of what the next few days would bring. But she knew she had to do something, for Jack as much as for this baby.

OoOoOo

Sam dropped Jack off at the Pentagon, promising to pick him up by 1900 hours. They both knew that was wishful thinking. The work was undoubtedly piled mile high on his desk with voice mail filled to overflowing. Still he'd do his best to be ready when his new wife returned to bring him back to the hospital.

Jack doubted he'd be able to focus today. It was hard enough to return from vacation, even harder to be separated from Sam for eight whole hours after the past two weeks. Add to that, his worry for Charlie and he might as well give it up.

Charlie. A baby unknown to him before the accident, a child unrelated to him by blood. Still, somehow, Jack felt bonded to him. Probably that cold, painful night he'd spent huddled with the baby in his arms praying for the small child's survival had a lot to do with it. Things like that had a way of bringing two mortal beings together for keeps. What's more, _his_ Charlie had asked him to help this baby, told him he was in danger. As far as Jack was concerned, he'd promised his son he'd take care of baby Charlie. And as always, General Jack O'Neill intended to keep his promise.

In spite of himself, Jack smirked as he mentally reviewed his conversation with Sam on the way from the hospital. His usually straight laced, by the book, wife was losing it. She was right with him, plotting possible ways to utilize off world technology to help the little guy. Sad thing was nothing seemed to fit. There was no way they'd be getting Charlie through the Stargate, much less sneak Thor or Lya into his hospital room. When they came right down to it, there wasn't much they or their alien friends could do without compromising Top Secret information and the Stargate program itself.

_Damn it!_ _What's the point of the program anyway, if we can't use the things we find on these little trips to help people? Maybe it's time to find practical uses for more than weapons. _Jack could hardly believe these thoughts were in his head. Jack O'Neill, Mr. Big Honkin' Space Gun, wanted to share medical advancements. How he'd changed!

And now he'd changed what could he do about it? Here he was sitting behind a god forsaken desk full of paperwork, helpless for all intents and purposes. And he hated helpless. _If only…_

"Jack, glad you're back," boomed George Hammond, come to welcome him back to work. The voice of his superior officer effectively interrupted Jack's morbid reverie.

"Wish I could say I was glad to be back," Jack replied. Then deciding he should keep it light, "You know what I always say … land of sky blue waters …"

"Uh huh, so it's hard to come back from vacation, is it? I'm thinking it might be a little thing like being separated from your new wife," Hammond suggested with a friendly twinkle in his eye.

"You old devil, you. You still have your sources, don't you?" Jack said. "Who's the snitch, Daniel or Teal'c?"

"I'll never tell, so long as you promise an invite to the next ceremony," Hammond said in a conspiratorial tone. "The same 'snitch' told me you're planning to do the deed again, for benefit of your deprived friends."

"In fact, we are and you are definitely on the guest list, Sir," Jack said. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

Hammond smiled. "By the way, congratulations. It's been a long time coming."

Jack's answering smile was far for his usual 'cat ate the canary smirk', letting Hammond know there was a problem.

"What is it, Jack?" Hammond asked, more as a friend than a superior. "I know you and Sam pretty well. I'm sure the honeymoon isn't over yet."

"Right as usual," Jack replied. "It's Charlie, the baby, you remember."

"Christina Gilmore's grandchild, yes?" Hammond clarified.

"Yes, sir, exactly."

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, not far from the Pentagon, in yet another official government building, Samantha Carter O'Neill tucked a small, nondescript package into her briefcase.

"Thank you, Malcolm," she said. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

Malcolm Barrett nodded silently. It bothered him to admit, but he'd do most anything for this woman. He'd been smitten a long time ago. And here he was doing something he could lose his job over; all for a woman he knew would never be his. Still he trusted her. _Nothing was going to happen. No one would even know. Who could this possibly hurt?_

"You're welcome," Barrett replied. "You know the drill, back as soon as possible, plausible deniability."

"Got it," Sam answered. "You really are a secret agent, aren't you?"

"That I am, and a good one at that," Malcolm said. "So what's with the wedding ring?"

OoOoOo

By mid afternoon at University Hospital, the pediatric team treating Charles Gilmore had reached a diagnostic decision. Within an hour, the baby's attending consulted a specialist and enlisted her help in breaking the news to the child's primary caretaker. Dr. Luis Sanchez hated this part of his job. Breaking bad news to parents was something he dreaded. The only thing worse was watching some of his young patients suffer.

There was no reason to delay now. Mrs. Gilmore had been waiting for an answer. She was entitled to know what she and her small grandson were up against.

Fortunately, Bobby Cramer had returned to sit with Christina shortly before Drs. Sanchez and Ryan made their way to her side. No family member needed to hear news like this alone.

"Mrs. Gilmore, let me introduce Dr. Megan Ryan," Dr. Sanchez, Charlie's pediatrician said calmly. "I've called her in to consult on the case and I believe we have some answers. Please," he said gesturing to the adjoining private conference room, "if you and your friend will join us …"

Without hesitation, Christina turned to Bobby, clearly expecting him to follow her. She didn't want to do this alone. Momentarily, the two doctors and the patient's "family" sat down together, neither side looking forward to what was to come.

"Mrs. Gilmore," the thirty something, redheaded doctor began, "I'm Dr. Megan Ryan. I'm a pediatric oncologist from Children's Hospital. Dr. Sanchez asked me to take a look at Charlie after he reviewed your little boy's last test results."

"An oncologist?" Christina said, her heart sinking.

"Yes, I work with children who have cancers," Ryan said, as gently as she could. "There is no easy way to tell you this. Charlie has a form of leukemia we call ALL, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. It means his body isn't producing the mature, functional cells needed to fight infection. That's why his ear infection wouldn't go away."

Christina paled and took a shallow breath, reaching for Bobby's hand and grasping it tightly. "He's so sick," she said simply. "Can you make him better?"

"Your right, Charlie is very sick," Dr. Sanchez said, looking briefly to his younger colleague. "The infection has not responded to the antibiotics we've tried. His fever is rising and as you know we've had difficulty controlling that as well. To be honest, I'm not sure we'll be able to help him."

"But you know what he has now. Can't you treat the leukemia and make him better?" Christina asked. Her voice and her heart were filled with desperation. She'd come to love this little boy; she'd finally started to believe she could care for him, as a mother, and now … now he might not survive at all. The thought was unbearable.

"I'm afraid we're unable to treat the leukemia directly until the infection is under control," Ryan replied. As it is, your grandson is much too sick to withstand any treatment for his cancer."

"What is possible, Doctor?" Bobby asked, looking for a shred of hope in what was quickly becoming a dismal prognosis.

"We need to place Charlie on a ventilator," Dr. Sanchez said. "This will support his lungs and hopefully give his body more of an opportunity to heal. At the same time, we have one more course of antibiotics we can try." Sanchez stopped, closed his eyes briefly and then looked at Dr. Ryan, waiting for her to offer the final words that needed to be spoken.

"What aren't you telling us?" Bobby asked.

Dr. Ryan spoke up, realizing how hard this was for the pediatrician. "I won't offer false hope. Charlie's condition is critical. It is very possible we will not be able to control the infection. We'll do everything we can, but he may not survive."

"But if he beats the infection?" Christina asked.

"If he beats the infection, we can begin to treat the cancer," Ryan said. "We'll have to take this one step at a time."

TBC


	41. Chapter 41 A Window Opens

"_But if he beats the infection?" Christina asked._

"_If he beats the infection, we can begin to treat the cancer," Ryan said. "We'll have to take thi one step at a time."_

* * *

CHAPTER 41: … A Window Opens 

Anne Cramer was in charge of the Cramer household tonight. Her sister, Denise, was staying overnight with a friend. Her dad had come home briefly to be sure eight-year-old Justin was doing okay. Then he'd gone back to the hospital.

The hospital routine all too familiar for Anne. Five years ago the Cramer family had spent long hours in pediatric hospital wards, learning first hand the stress of a chronically ill child. Anne was only eleven years old at the time. For a long year, the fifth grader and her family had struggled through their first family tragedy. As she remembered her brother Jason, she smiled. Short as his life had been, everyone loved him.

A year before his death, Anne's mom and dad had left baby Jason unsupervised on their bed for only a few minutes. In that space of time the squirming three-month-old managed to get tangled up in sheets and pillows. To this day, no one knew exactly what had happened. Whatever it was, a distraught Eileen Cramer found the baby unresponsive. The doctors' final diagnosis was a near miss Sudden Infant Death (SIDS) episode.

Bobby had managed to revive his infant son; it seemed miraculous when Jason started breathing again. But the miracle was far from perfect. Little Jason had sustained significant brain damage. Though the Cramers were delighted to have their little boy with them, in their hearts they knew he'd never be the same. Still they did everything they could to keep him with them as long as possible. Even that had been a challenge. Jason had become susceptible to infection and had difficulty feeding. A feeding tube and frequent bouts of pneumonia had become commonplace. It had only been a matter of time.

OoOoOo

At 2000 hours, Sam arrived back at the Pentagon. Jack was surprised she was late, but had more than enough work to fill the time. Madelaine had stayed voluntarily to help her boss on his first day back. She was getting ready to pack it in for the day when Sam arrived.

"General, Mrs. O'Neill is here," she announced formally.

"Please send her in Madelaine," Jack answered. "And Madelaine, it's way past time for you to go home. I appreciate all your help today, but get on home to your family."

"Yes, Sir," Madelaine replied with a smile, genuinely happy to see her boss back, "I'll see you tomorrow." As Madelaine left, Sam made her way in to greet her husband.

"Mrs. O'Neill, huh?" he queried with a chuckle. "What happened to Colonel Doctor Carter?"

"She got married," Sam said with a cheeky grin, "and she likes the new name."

"Sweet," Jack replied, abandoning his desk and coming over to kiss his wife soundly. "So at the SGC, Atlantis …?"

"It'll still be Colonel Carter. Wouldn't want to confuse too many people," Sam said. "But whenever I can, it's Mrs. O'Neill. I like the sound, how about you?"

"Oh yeah!" Jack said without a second thought, pulling Sam into a warm hug. A moment later he pulled back from their embrace enough to see Sam's eyes and ask what he needed to know. "Any word on Charlie?" he asked. "I was hoping I might get a call with good news."

"We need to talk," Sam said. "There've been some 'developments'."

"What's happened?" Jack asked, dreading the worst.

"Well," Sam started, "let's head over to the hospital and I'll tell you on the way."

"It's that bad?" Jack asked. Between the stress of returning to the job and his worry about Charlie, he was on edge.

"Jack, it's just that…"

"Just what? Sam …?"

"I went to see Charlie this afternoon; he's so sick, so many tubes, so quiet," Sam said. "I wanted to help, but too many people."

"What are you talking about?" Jack asked in frustration. "Sam, if you don't tell me, I swear …"

"I went to see Malcolm after I dropped you off," she said. "He gave me this." Sam opened her briefcase enough for Jack to glimpse the outline of the healing device. No more explanation was needed.

"Do you _want_ to be in the stockade, Carter?" he barked indignantly.

"Carter?"

"Yeah, right now I'd say my wife needs a C.O. to keep her out of trouble."

"Really," Sam said, feeling her hackles rising. This marriage thing wasn't going to be easy. "I had to do something. _We_ have to do something. Getting this through Malcolm comes easier than going through channels."

"And you didn't think you could tell me?"

"Plausible deniability," Sam suggested. "Why have both of us in the stockade?"

"To keep each other company?" Jack quipped, unable to resist the temptation.

Sam smiled briefly and swatted his arm. "But I need you, again," she said. "I have to get everyone out of the baby's cubicle so I can use the device without witnesses. That's where you come in, 'General'."

"Then what are we waiting for, let's get the show on the road," Jack said. "Oh, one last thing before we do."

"Yes?'

Jack walked back to his desk, unlocked and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a small wrapped package, pulling back the cover to reveal a Goa'uld healing device.

"Jack?"

"As soon as I told Hammond what was going on, he suggested I give this to you," Jack said. "He's a good man."

"That he is," Sam replied. "This could cost him a lot."

"Like us, I think he's decided it's worth it."

OoOoOo

It was a thirty minute trip from the Pentagon to University Hospital. During the ride, Sam shared her misgivings about using the healing device in the first place. In addition to the calculated risk of being discovered, she was fairly certain its use wouldn't cure Charlie completely. During her afternoon visit with Christina she'd learned of his underlying diagnosis of leukemia. From her acquaintance with Goa'uld technology, Sam knew the capabilities of this device were limited. The best it could do was to heal acute trauma, certainly not resolve underlying medical illnesses. Be that as it may, she'd try to reverse the acute life threatening issues that were making it impossible to stabilize the baby. Perhaps with that much of a head start, the doctors would be able to treat his leukemia and achieve a remission.

She wasn't certain how long it would take to make a difference in so young a patient. All she did know was they couldn't risk exposing the alien technique to hospital personnel or even Charlie's grandmother. There was too much at stake. Jack would have to provide an adequate diversion.

It was after 2200 hours; the night shift was coming on duty. As they entered the pediatric unit, Jack and Sam immediately caught sight of Bobby Cramer approaching Charlie's room.

"How's he doing?" Jack asked his old friend. "Any change?"

"None for the better I'm afraid," Bobby answered. "The doctor thinks his kidneys are failing now. If that happens, it doesn't look good."

"How are _you_ holding up?" Sam asked. Jack had told her about the death of Bobby's son. She rightly assumed that this situation brought back painful, less than fully healed memories for this man.

"I'm fine, Sam," Bobby said. "It's Christina I'm worried about. She's exhausted. Had no sleep the past couple nights. She's hanging on by a thread."

"We'll have to see what we can do about that," Jack said. "It's not going to help the baby for her to get sick, now is it?"

"I'm not sure anything's going to help Charlie," Bobby said sadly. "Might be the best thing we can do to prepare her for it."

"Don't assume the worst," Sam said, "anything can happen."

"What do you say you and I take Christina to get something to eat," Jack suggested.

"Yeah, I'll be happy to sit with the baby for awhile," Sam said, hoping Bobby would agree with the plan and convince Christina.

OoOoOo

Fortunately, Jack and Bobby made for an irresistible pair. After a few minutes, they accompanied Christina from baby Charlie's room, explaining their plans to the attending nurse. Christina wiped tears from her face as she greeted Sam and thanked her for sitting with Charlie.

"Half an hour, I promise, we'll be right back," Christina said.

"Please take any time you need," Sam assured her. "I'll stay as long as you need. Besides, you know the nurses are watching everything all the while. Charlie won't be alone for a minute."

"I know. It's just not the same."

Sam nodded sadly, unable to imagine what it would be like to have a sick child. As much as she thought she wanted to be a mother some day, she wondered whether she'd be able to endure this.

"You want to be here," Sam said.

Christina nodded. "I'll be back soon."

Sam watched Christina walk off next to Bobby. Jack hung behind, deciding to 'wait with Sam'. In reality of course, Jack's next order of business was to stand guard while Sam worked her magic.

"Okay, you're on," Jack said.

Sam walked up to the cubicle and spoke in a soft concerned tone to Charlie's nurse. Explaining how she'd be there until Mrs. Gilmore returned, Sam took up her station, while the nurse returned to the monitoring area, where Jack was waiting. She'd be back to the bedside within the next fifteen minutes for her rounds. Even Major General O'Neill in his best command mode would be unable to dissuade Charlie's intensive care nurse from coming to his side when the time was right.

Feeling she had no time to waste, Sam settled in next to Charlie's crib. As the baby was restrained in the bed, preventing him from working any of the medical paraphernalia loose, the side rail closest to Sam was down. Charlie looked even smaller than he normally did. Dressed in nothing more than a diaper and hospital issue sleeper, he was dwarfed by the machinery surrounding him. And silent, the baby was so very silent. The only sound in the small cubicle was the hiss of the ventilator and the rhythmic beat of the attached monitors.

Sam wished she could scoop Charlie up in her arms and rock him gently. Even in the medically induced coma, she was certain he must be frightened. He was a baby. Sam had never seen a small child so ill. Difficult as it was, she knew it was time to distance those thoughts for now and concentrate on the task at hand.

Stationing herself directly over the baby with her back to the nurse's station, effectively blocking the ever vigilant woman's view, Sam took out the Goa'uld device she hoped would make a difference for the little boy.

It had been at least five years since she'd tried to use one of these. _Whatever made me think I could do this,_ she questioned herself when her first attempt resulted in a dull, useless light she couldn't sustain. Before she could worry too much, the device pulsed in her hand and began to hum. A reassuring golden light streamed from where her hand joined the small alien device. And she prayed. Concentrating with all her considerable will, Samantha O'Neill prayed that this tiny child be saved, for himself and for the people who loved him. Her emotion and strength of purpose was fueled by her thoughts of another Charlie she'd never known and the father who still mourned him.

As the light poured freely from the device, Sam imagined it flowing over the baby and warming his heart. Though it seemed to take forever, it wasn't long before she noticed a change in Charlie's breathing. The beat of the monitor picked up and the little boy's eyes gently fluttered open.

At that moment, the device effectively shut off, the light died and it was silent. Sam had done all she could. Slipping the alien device into her pocket, she tenderly stroked the baby's forehead, smoothing back the wisp of hair that covered his small head.

"Shh, it's going to be okay, Charlie," she said, hoping she spoke the truth. Then, without thinking, Sam began to hum a melody she remembered from her own childhood, a lullaby her mother sang to her long ago. And she cried, longing once again to take this poor child in her arms. Instead, she rang for the nurse, certain the woman would want to be aware of this change in Charlie's condition.

By the time Christina and Bobby returned from the cafeteria, Charlie's room was filled with doctors and nurses. The view was blocked and Christina assumed the worst. That was until Sam came out of Charlie's room, a gentle smile on her face.

"He's awake," she said.

TBC

* * *

A/N: I realize these chapters are sad and probably difficult to read. Hoping readers will see it through. 

I'd promised myself to avoid the science fiction aspects of the series in this particular story as much as possible, that is not rely on them to get characters out of trouble. But alas, the healing device beckoned.

Waiting to hear what you think of the newest twists in the story. All feedback appreciated. Hope you're continuing to read. Please let me know.


	42. Chapter 42 Awake

_By the time Christina and Bobby returned from the cafeteria, Charlie's room was filled with doctors and nurses. The view was blocked and Christina assumed the worst. That was until Sam came out of Charlie's room, a gentle smile on her face._

"_He's awake," she said._

* * *

CHAPTER 42: AWAKE

The next morning, Charlie was breathing on his own. His fever down, he sat happily in Christina's lap playing with a toy. He wasn't out of the woods. But today there was hope; yesterday, there had been none.

Dr. Sanchez was mystified. He hadn't expected this child to survive. It was a pleasant surprise for a man quickly succumbing to the stress and cynicism of his profession.

Now there were treatment options to be considered. The next steps wouldn't be easy, but the baby had a fighting chance. Sanchez couldn't help but wonder whether the family would be up to it. Family for this little tyke, the pediatrician remembered, amounted to a youngish grandmother struggling with a mid-life crisis. Would Christina Gilmore have the fortitude and support she needed to deal with a chronically ill child? However this turned out, it would be awhile before her grandson would be a normal little boy. For a long while, Charlie would need special attention.

Over the past two weeks, Luis Sanchez had become reacquainted with the Cramers, the family he often found waiting with Charlie's grandmother. Dr. Sanchez had attended the last days of little Jason Cramer. He was certain it was Jason's year long struggle that forged the connection between the two families. The Cramers had been where Christina was now; fortunately for her, they'd chosen to share their experience and strength. They understood what she was going through in a way few others could.

OoOoOo

Sanchez did his best of disabuse Christina of any false hope. He deftly tried to deflect her thanks and praise for the baby's unexpected improvement. He knew his treatment couldn't take the credit. But how else was he to explain it?

Sam's intervention had flown under everyone's radar. No one but Jack had any idea what actually took place during Sam's brief visit with Charlie. For his part, Jack expressed his gratitude as he always did, with a renewed declaration of love, respect and admiration.

"Thank you," he said, his eyes holding hers. "He would have died without you."

Sam blushed. It was that all too humble look she got when someone praised her. The moment passed quickly, a soft smile replacing the look of discomfort.

"I'm glad it made a difference," she said. "I only wish I could have done more. He's still going to need chemotherapy, maybe a transplant."

"But he's got a chance. If you hadn't been here, hell, if you hadn't been willing to take the risk, he wouldn't have that," Jack said. Sam's abilities were unique; her willingness to use them bore witness once more to her extraordinary courage. What's more her underlying motivation to help a child she barely knew didn't escape Jack's attention. It was as if she'd healed _his_ Charlie, or at least made her best attempt.

"I can't believe no one was suspicious," Sam said, trying to change the subject, take the focus off of her. "No one seemed to question what happened, the change in the baby."

"What are they going to ask?" Jack quipped. "Did anyone see someone cure this kid with an alien healing device?"

"You've got a point," Sam admitted. "It's hard for someone to suspect something they can't imagine."

"And in lieu of that, they accept it," Jack suggested. "After all, the medical profession has been taking credit for good luck as long as I can remember."

"I suppose," Sam said. "Let's consider ourselves lucky."

"Yeah, lucky," Jack supplied. "This time."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, we've got to be careful. Like you said, Charlie's not home free yet. We might want to use that handy little thingy again."

"You're right of course," Sam said. "We can't get careless. Then again, I'm not going to be here that much longer."

Jack grimaced. He didn't need to be reminded she'd be in another galaxy in a few more days. "Did you _have to_ remind me of that?"

"I'm just saying…"

"I know, believe me, I know," he said, dreading the time he'd have to say goodbye.

"I love you, you know," he said, struggling to put his depth of feeling into words.

"I know," she said dreamily. "You let me know with every look, every touch."

"Good."

"I love you, too," Sam said softly.

OoOoOo

The next week was trying to say the least. At University Hospital, an exhaustive course of chemotherapy began. The goal, induce remission of the deadly disease still threatening a small child. Though Charlie's overall condition was stable, leukemia in a child so young carried a relatively high mortality rate. It was difficult to find a protocol of treatment that led to remission without causing irreversible damage to a developing infant. Even if remission was achieved, there was no guarantee it would last.

Jack and Sam spent time at the hospital each day, sitting with Christina, sometimes sitting with Charlie while she took a break. When Sam took her turn rocking and soothing the baby, she quickly realized how Jack had become so attached. Holding a vulnerable life in your hands could do that. She wanted to protect Charlie, wanted the best for him.

And it was good to have a baby in her arms. More than once during the week, she found herself fantasizing about having a baby with Jack. Even as she enjoyed the fantasy, the rational part of her brain protested. The chances of fulfilling that particular dream were slim.

"Well, little guy, maybe Jack and I will hang around and spoil you as you grow up. What do you say? Honorary Aunt and Uncle?" she whispered, half expecting the gurgling baby to answer her. She was rewarded with a smile.

In the midst of a huge smile she offered Charlie in return, one of the nurses announced an unexpected visitor.

"He says it's urgent," the nurse said. "Don't worry, I get Charlie settled until Mrs. Gilmore returns."

Sam was puzzled. Who would come here to see her? As she left Charlie's room, she was astonished to find Colonel Caldwell waiting.

"Colonel Carter, I just got in today," Caldwell said. "General Hammond told me I could find you here."

"He did, did he?" came a new voice from the outer doorway. "I'll need to speak with him about the meaning of Top Secret," Jack quipped as he came up to stand next to Sam.

"Hello, General," Caldwell said, saluting respectfully. "I'm sorry to interrupt. I thought I'd let Colonel Carter know in person."

"Know what?" Sam asked.

"There've been some changes in your orders, Colonel. Our orders, actually. Atlantis is having a power problem again. Seems ZPM energy is pretty limited; use of the intergalactic bridge has been restricted to emergency transport. Bottom line, you're with me for transport aboard Daedalus. We ship out 0800 day after tomorrow."

_But we have five more days,_ Sam said to herself. Aloud, she remained unperturbed, stating the obvious facts. "Early departure, given the time required for the trip. And you have other cargo don't you?"

"As a matter of fact, we do," Caldwell confirmed. "The station needs supplies, specifically the ZPM SG-16 came across the other day."

"Daniel," Sam said with a smile, recalling her friend's temporary assignment to SG16.

"Yes, Doctor Jackson had something to do with finding the artifact," Caldwell admitted.

"I'm sure he did," Jack replied. "So, no way around this early departure Caldwell?"

"Afraid not, Sir," Caldwell said. "Think of it this way, the trip will give Colonel Carter time to update herself on activity in Atlantis."

"Thanks for the tip," Sam said, doing her best to be pleasant, realizing Caldwell had no idea of the reason for her distress. "I'll be there."

"I'm sure you will," the unwelcome messenger said. "I'll be going now, General, Colonel."

"Thanks for stopping by," Jack said half-heartedly. "See you day after tomorrow."

TBC

* * *

A/N: In case you're wondering I am planning on ending this story _at some point_. Just going to do a bit more traveling around first, addressing one or two more plot bunnies.

Also as the Charlie thread continues please excuse any inaccuracies r/t treatment of childhood cancers; my professional experience in this area was decades ago – literally – and I know I'm not completely up to date.

All reviews, comments appreciated.


	43. Chapter 43 Return to Atlantis

A/N: Thanks to everyone still reading and reviewing!

* * *

CHAPTER 43: RETURN TO ATLANTIS

These days, when Christina slept, she slept fitfully.

After three days at home, Christina had returned Charlie to the hospital for his next round of treatments. It was one of the hardest things she had to do. He was so sick when the doctors administered the poison they called medicine. Christina was furious, she wasn't sure at what. The disease, the doctors and nurses, Charlie, herself, God, the world, take your pick.

Damn it! What was she supposed to do? She looked like hell. She'd taken leave from her job, a surefire way to torpedo her career. And here she was with sole responsibility for a very sick child. Sure he was her grandchild and she loved him. But she'd never signed up for any of this. This was Jessica's responsibility. That girl was always getting in trouble. But how could she be mad at a dead person? How could she be angry with her dead daughter? _Oh God, this is impossible_, she thought. _I don't know what to do._

Charlie pulled at maternal heartstrings Christina thought she didn't have. Maybe it was because he was sick. Perhaps it was her age. She couldn't remember feeling so attached, so emotionally committed to Jessica. That kind of bonding should make her willing to give up just about anything, shouldn't it? So why was she feeling so resentful, so angry? She cried most of the day, sometimes when she least expected it. Truth be told, she barely recognized herself anymore. Christina Gilmore had become a bundle of irrational emotions, totally wrapped up in a seriously ill, beautifully innocent infant. In spite of herself, Charlie had stolen her heart.

This horrible thing happening to Charlie rekindled the memory of other horrible things. Jessica's death, the loss of her marriage, and the death of her husband, all the losses of her life suddenly became fresh wounds. A woman given to denial, Christina's life depended on her ability to hide tender emotions behind selfish, practical pursuits. Her beauty, career, wealth and romantic conquests had always occupied her heart and mind, providing refuge from the pain of loss. Somehow, her love for Charlie had wiped all of that away.

She worried that it made her weak. It certainly changed things. She was vulnerable, vulnerable in a way she'd never been. Her emotions were close to the surface, day in and day out. She needed support from other people. And for once in her life, she genuinely appreciated the love and support they gave her. The Cramers, for instance; good people, more than willing to stand by her through all this, they'd suffered through their own child's illness. Their child had died. Christina wouldn't, couldn't, consider the possibility that Charlie might die. Maybe her talent for denial wasn't dead after all.

And then there was Jack. He'd come as soon as he'd heard about Charlie. He'd have come sooner if he hadn't been away, on his honeymoon actually. Though she tried to be happy for him and for Sam, Christina had to admit she was disappointed. Somewhere in her heart, she hoped there'd be something for her with Jack, even after she met Sam. He was an amazing man; the more she learned about him, the more she liked him. Who was she kidding, she was hooked. The man was gorgeous, spoke to her heart like few others had, without even trying. In all honesty, she supposed this was yet another loss. He didn't want her; that in itself was a unique experience for a beautiful woman like Christina Gilmore. Well, she'd come to terms with that too, sooner or later. But right now, it was another wound, another disappointment. At least Sam was a good woman, someone she could see as a friend, even a good friend at some point in the future. She had to admit, they looked good together. And Jack certainly seemed happy.

Who was she kidding? Even thinking about Jack in this way was a distraction, a distraction from the real issue, Charlie's illness. Christina worried she'd be unable to see this through. Her grandson needed someone strong to stand by him during the days, weeks, months, maybe years ahead. She'd never been there like that for anyone. Then again, she was changing. And the tears were falling again.

Charlie was her second chance, her chance to be everything she'd never been for Jessica. She wasn't sure she had it in her.

OoOoOo

It was a nondescript landing field in Nevada. Beneath the drifting sands slept a top secret government installation, the resting place as it were of the Daedelus and other intergalactic craft the government wasn't supposed to have.

They'd made love into the wee hours of the morning. With less than three hours sleep, Colonel Samantha Carter (O'Neill) stood on a dank, otherwise deserted underground observation deck, absently watching the final preflight preparation of the ship that would change her life once again. After two weeks of being Mrs. Jack O'Neill, assuming a tough as nails, devil-may-care military persona once more was no easy task. In all honesty, she wanted to stay planet side with her husband. Knew that couldn't be, but wanted it with all her heart, nonetheless. And right now that heart was breaking.

Couldn't have imagined it would be this hard. _For crying out loud_, she thought, she was an experienced professional soldier who had placed duty before personnel gain many times. Difference was, now she knew exactly what she was leaving behind. And to her way of thinking, she'd already wasted too much time as it was. But there was nothing to be done about it now. She was committed to the next six months. Then, she promised herself, everything would change.

Jack wasn't doing much better. He loved Sam with an intensity he wasn't expecting. And now it was harder than ever to send her away. They'd arrived together barely fifteen minutes ago. While Sam stationed herself on the observation deck, Jack lagged behind; he excused himself to talk with some of the airmen he'd known at the SGC. In reality, that was his excuse to get his head together, figuring how he was going to say goodbye to his wife. Now he joined her on the stark metal overhang as she watched the final preparations.

"Be ready soon, won't she?" Jack asked rhetorically.

"Yeah, soon," Sam answered. "I'll have to go aboard any minute now. Caldwell said he'd come for me."

Jack stood silently by her side, staring straight ahead. Without words, he allowed his hand to cover hers as she held onto the metal railing. Spontaneously, the two intertwined their fingers, holding on for dear life. Jack closed his eyes and breathed deeply, knowing the time was here. Sam turned slowly towards him, hot tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said, meeting his eyes.

"For what?" Jack asked incredulously. Why should this wonderful woman apologize to him?

"I thought it would be easier, no big deal," Sam said. "A little time apart, that's all. We've done it before, right?"

Jack hung then shook his head, snorting as he did so. "We were wrong about that, weren't we? Quite a pair we make, Sam."

"We make a fine pair, Jack," she said. "So don't start."

"I'm not 'starting', just saying. We've got a lot to learn about ourselves, about feelings."

"Yeah," she said. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, calming herself. "I don't want to go."

"But you will," he said. "Then you'll come back."

She looked at him. This man had cherished and protected her for years, whether or not her feminist pride wanted to admit it. Now finally, she could see that as a good thing. She wanted to always cherish and protect him as well. She was right in the first place, they'd done this separation thing before and they could do it again. Their feelings wouldn't change. She could trust he'd be waiting for her.

Jack leaned in and gently pulled Sam into his arms. With infinite tenderness, he pressed a gently kiss to her forehead and reached up to wipe away the stray tears that fell in spite of her steely determination.

"Come back to me," he said.

"I will," she answered.

Without warning, their private time was interrupted. "Colonel Carter, it's time to go," Steven Caldwell called from the other end of the deck.

As if in answer to the summons, Jack and Sam pulled back from each other, still holding hands. And for one endless moment, they held each other at arms length, each studying, memorizing the face of the beloved. There were no force fields, no hostile aliens or death threats keeping them apart for that moment. But there were no guarantees.

OoOoOo

Once aboard Daedelus, Sam slipped back into her professional role. The adventure and thrill of this life were still an integral part of who she was. There was so much to be done. After greeting the bridge crew and introducing herself to the many new and incredibly young faces, Sam settled into her quarters. Interestingly, she had no specific responsibilities during the trip. Her only assignment was to play catch up with all that had happened on Atlantis, her station, during her month long hiatus.

Shortly after liftoff, Caldwell brought her a box of files and computer discs documenting every imagination occurrence. Undoubtedly there were segments of information more important than others; Sam's first instinct was to skim everything and find the critical details. She couldn't imagine why Caldwell hadn't sorted them in the first place.

Before she made much headway, a particular disc caught her attention. Decorated with a bright Atlantis glyph, the script said simply, "Welcome Back". Knowing she'd have to take the time to organize all of this anyway, she stopped to play this one first. She was glad she did.

Apparently, the command crew had come together to shoot a home movie of sorts, complete with comedic episodes and more serious reviews of the past month's events. Lt. Colonel Sheppard offered a glowing review of his own command performance, while Teyla and Ronon, exempt from military consequences, suggested he had things to learn about 'working with people'. Suspiciously absent from the group was one Rodney McKay. More surprisingly, no one mentioned him during the fifteen minute recording.

"Am I interrupting, Colonel?"

Sam turned around to find Steven Caldwell standing in the doorway.

"Nothing to interrupt, Colonel," Sam said pleasantly. "So far, I've watched a home movie from Sheppard." She stopped as she saw the puzzled, less than amused look on the man's face. She decided to step the professionalism up a notch. "Is there anything here you'd suggest I look at first?" she asked.

"Not there," Caldwell said. "But here, start with this file. It's about Dr. McKay."

"Rodney? What's he done this time?"

"Bad mission about a week ago" he began. "Dr. McKay was captured by the Wraith. By the time we got to him, the feeding process had begun."

TBC

* * *

A/N: It's pouring rain here finally, so limited yard work this weekend. That means another chapter!

Hope you enjoyed it. Decided to explore Christina's reactions to the baby's illness, surprised myself I hadn't done that yet. It's easy to lose track of characters!!!

A special thank you to the folks at Gateworld's Sam and Jack Family Discussion thread for the recent review of all things Stargate Atlantis! For some reason, that explanation was more helpful than the Gateworld Omnipedia itself.

Please review!!!


	44. Chapter 44 Adjustments

"_Rodney__? What's he done this time?"_

"_Bad mission about one week ago" he began. "Dr. McKay was captured by the Wraith. By the time we got to him, the feeding process had begun."_

* * *

CHAPTER 44: ADJUSTMENTS

Over the past few days, Jack O'Neill had done his best to stay busy. He didn't want to spend much time on the fact his wife was light years away from him. So he tackled the mound of paperwork on his desk, returned phone calls and e-mails he'd ignored for weeks and made nice with the nagging sycophants who prowled the halls of the Pentagon. God, he hated being a desk jockey! Maybe he should ask Thor to do a reboot of his physiology, take care of the age, the heart, and the knees. Then he remembered Sam loved him just the way he was. Least that's what she always said and he had no reason to doubt her.

By his calculations, Sam was about one day out from Atlantis. Someday, they'd improve communications so he'd be able to talk with her on route. Hopefully, by then, his wife would be staying closer to home. Not overly close, necessarily. He wouldn't want to hem her in, but this other galaxy stuff, that would get old quickly. You would think he'd gotten used to this, this not being able to watch 'her six' stuff. Three years of watching her go through the Gate without him should have helped. But it didn't work; he was still going to worry, each and every day.

Bobby Cramer had offered to distract him with lunch today. Granted, since Bobby didn't have clearance, he had no idea where Sam was. Still, as an Air Force officer, he understood and accepted the meaning of the word "classified". And as such, he knew his friend's wife could be in some danger. The least he could do was keep him company once in awhile.

Not unexpectedly, Bobby brought Christina with him. The two had become good friends over the past weeks; Jack had gotten used to seeing them together. If nothing else, Jack hoped his friend could distract Christina enough to divert her attentions from one very married General. And as far as Jack was concerned, those two wouldn't be a bad match at all.

The party of three decided on a small casual restaurant off the beaten DC path. Jack was delighted to find a place his military cohorts didn't frequent. For that matter, he wondered how Bobby had found it, _maybe Christina_ …

"Yeah, Jack," Bobby said, as if reading his friend's mind, "this place was Christina's idea. We both figured you wouldn't relax much if all the bigwigs were around."

"Right you are, old buddy," Jack said. "This looks like a good choice."

The simple meal of soup and sandwiches passed companionably enough. But the mood was bleak to say the least. Bobby had done his best to lift everyone's spirits. So far he'd failed miserably. So he decided to try a new tact.

"Okay, you two," he said, "What do you say we blow this joint and get some ice cream?"

"Ice cream? "I don't know," Jack quipped. "It'll be disaster for my girlish figure. What do you think Christina?"

Christina chuckled in spite of herself. "I'm game, you two," she said, "So long as I get back to Charlie in another half hour or so."

"Promise to deliver you on time, Ma'am," Bobby said gallantly. At that moment, as if to mock the lawyer's intent, Bobby's pager went off with a flourish. "Excuse me, I've got to take this call," he said sheepishly. Bobby nodded to Jack and proceeded to answer the call.

"I know where the ice cream place is," Christina said. "What do you say we meet him there?"

"Sure," Jack said. "We'll give Bobby the high sign on the way out." Looking over at his friend, already deep in conversation, most likely with a troubled client, Jack continued, "Looks like he'll be awhile."

OoOoOo

The ice cream parlor was only two doors down from the small restaurant.

"Let's wait for Bobby," Christina said, as Jack started to check out the ice cream selections.

"Sure, no problem," Jack replied. "We need to watch your time though."

"I will, don't worry," Christina said. "I need to talk with you. And now's as good a time as any."

"Okay, talk away," Jack said with a terse grin, a little uncomfortable with the developing situation.

"This isn't easy, Jack," she began. "You know I'm not very good at this 'mother' thing. I'm trying, but I don't know how people do it."

Jack looked at Christina curiously, totally unsure where she was going with this.

"It's okay, Jack," she said, "don't look so scared. I promise I'm not making any moves on you. Not that I don't want to, but …"

"I wasn't …" Jack protested.

"Don't worry, that's not what this is about."

"Then …"

"If I'm not up to this, will you take him?"

"Charlie? Take Charlie? What are you talking about?" Jack asked, truly perplexed. And he thought only Sam could confuse him.

"He's so sick, Jack. I'm not sure I'm the best one for him right now," she said. "I'm crying half the time."

"I'd say that's a fairly normal thing to do … when your child's sick," Jack said calmly, holding out his hands helplessly and wincing. _If she starts crying, I swear I'm paging Bobby,_ he thought.

"Maybe, but this is just the beginning," she said. "He's going to need treatment, maybe for years, maybe a bone marrow transplant. If I'm not up to it, will you take him?"

"Why me?" Jack asked innocently. "I thought you and Bobby…"

Christina shook her head and smiled weakly. "I suppose I'm not that focused anymore. Bobby's just a friend, Jack. Besides, Charlie needs a mother and a father. And you have a wife."

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, aboard the Daedelus, Sam learned more than she wanted to know about the most recent adventures of the Atlantis crew.

"You mean they left him behind?" she said incredulously. "I can't believe that."

"From what I understand, Sheppard didn't exactly have a choice," Caldwell said. "By the time they found Dr. McKay, the team was under attack."

"And Teyla was incapacitated?"

"Exactly," he replied. "Sheppard's report says they needed to get her out, escape the attacking Wraith before sustaining further casualties. Besides, Dr. McKay's cocoon was protected by a force field they were unable to penetrate."

"So you're saying we don't know where he is now?"

"That's correct, Colonel," Caldwell confirmed. "The Wraith ship engaged a hyperspace window before the puddle jumper gated out of there."

"And this was two days ago?" Watching Caldwell's tacit acknowledgement, Sam continued. "So what's been done to get him back?"

"Zelenka's team is working on a way to track the Wraith ship," Caldwell said.

"And?"

"And, according to him, it'll take a while to do so," Caldwell said.

"Not good enough," Sam said. "We need to get him back. We don't leave our people behind."

TBC

* * *

A/N: I've heard from some readers disappointed to see our favorite couple separated again. As much as I like to see them together, I'm not seeing Sam as one to abandon an assignment even for Jack.

If you have thoughts, ideas to share re: the remainder of the story or ways to make it better, please share! It's always GREAT to hear from everyone. Your comments make my day. Thanks again!!


	45. Chapter 45 Explanations

A/N: Thanks to all for your thoughtful comments, particularly on the last chapter.

Hopefully Christina's motivations and intentions will become a bit clearer as we go on. Also I'm hoping to give you a clearer exposition of what's happened to Rodney, as Sam plans a rescue.

OoOoOo

"_Not good enough," Sam said. "We need to get him back. We don't leave our people behind."_

* * *

CHAPTER 45: EXPLANATIONS

Sam and Colonel Caldwell spent the next two hours reviewing the events surrounding the abduction of Rodney McKay.

Sam knew she was up against it. From what Caldwell told her, Sheppard's decision to leave McKay behind was a last resort. The capable commander had no other choice; the lives of the rest of his team were in jeopardy. In spite of her initial reaction, she could understand Sheppard's position in the heat of battle.

As Sheppard's report explained it, the team had gone to Esnor, a small, sparsely populated planet, where they believed they might find a ZPM. The initial intelligence had come from Teyla's people and was felt to be reliable.

When they first arrived, all was well. The Esnorians were friendly, simple people, more than willing to offer assistance in the search for a technology they didn't understand. Even with that assistance, there was little sign of the sought after artifact. However there were other things of interest on the planet, namely florescent plants and other nondescript vegetation Rodney McKay felt might be a useful energy source. Not to mention, the Esnorian leadership showed uncanny knowledge of the Ancients. Sheppard's report indicated McKay and Roger Thomas, the assigned archeologist, had stayed behind for further investigation while the rest of the team returned to Atlantis.

Sam's welcome home message was taped by the crew while Rodney remained on Esnor. For all they knew at the time, nothing was wrong; McKay and Thomas had stayed behind with friendly native peoples in order to explore their surroundings. Still, Sam shook her head realizing how upset Rodney would be to know the team taped the whole message without even a mention of him.

Now, she was willing to bet, he was foremost in all of their minds.

By the time McKay and Thomas failed to report in as scheduled, the damage had been done. When Atlantis contacted the Esnorians, the station was informed of a Wraith visit. Not a culling, far less extensive and much more focused than a general culling. This group of Wraith had come with a specific target in mind – Dr. Rodney McKay. And the target had been acquired.

OoOoOo

When he returned to work after a supposedly relaxing lunch with Bobby and Christina, Jack O'Neill's mind was turning cartwheels. He was royally confused. It was difficult to concentrate on any of the work on his desk, let alone his appointments. He kept thinking about the baby whose life he'd saved. That life was still in trouble and Jack knew he would do all he could to help. But what did Christina really want him to do? What was the best thing? What was even possible?

These questions tormented him for the rest of the day. They followed him home. He wished he could talk with Sam, but he'd have to wait until she reached Atlantis; even then communication might be hit and miss.

So he settled for calling his old friend, Bobby Cramer.

"What's going on Bobby?"

Not one to avoid his friend's questions, Bobby tried to understand what Jack really wanted to know.

"You're asking about Christina," The JAG lawyer stated matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I am," Jack admitted. "I figured you'd know as well as anyone. What's going on with her?"

"She asked you about taking Charlie, didn't she?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, she did," Jack answered. "I was so shocked I don't know what I said. I thought she was getting used to the little guy, you know, really wanting him."

"Christina loves Charlie, Jack," Bobby said. "She's scared; she's never been through anything like this before. And she's alone. When Jason was sick, at least Eileen and I had each other."

"But she's thinking about giving him up. Her child …"

"But he's not her child," Bobby said. "Maybe that's part of the problem."

"Maybe," Jack said thoughtfully. "I have to admit, for a moment there I thought she had a good idea. Sam and I would be great parents."

"I'm sure you would be," Bobby replied, accurately sensing his friend's sadness and regret.

"You knew about this didn't you?" Jack asked after a moment.

"Yeah, I did," Bobby confirmed. "Christina and I, well we've become pretty good friends the past few weeks. She confides in me, especially about the baby. I like to think I've been some help to her. I give her an ear to listen, a shoulder when she needs one. I understand what she's going through."

"I know," Jack said, realizing that in his own tragic way, he understood as well. Tragedies involving children had devastating impacts on families, effects that never went away. If families survived, they became extraordinarily sensitive to other families who struggled. What's more, after Charlie's death he'd run away himself. It wasn't the same thing, but then again not completely different from what Christina was considering. Sometimes the feelings were too much.

"So don't be too hard on her, Jack," Bobby continued. "She trying to do what she thinks might be best for Charlie. Her biggest fear is she won't be able to get through the emotional strain of all this herself. And if she can't, she wants to know someone will be there for the baby. For all her self confidence, Christina doesn't believe she has it in her to be a good parent."

"Charlie belongs with family, Bobby," Jack said. "Between the two of us, maybe we can give her the support she needs to see this through."

"Sounds like a plan, my friend. It sound like a plan."

OoOoOo

Still less than twelve hours out from Atlantis, Daedalus was finally within communications range. Sam decided to waste no time contacting those people directly involved in the McKay debacle. To that end, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard made an appearance over the long range communications device.

"Colonel Carter, it's good to see you again, Ma'am," he said. Sheppard's face, even over a subspace transmission was gaunt and noticeably thinner. "I'm going to assume you want to know about Dr. McKay."

"Yes, John," Sam said, as gently as she could, sensing her subordinate's distress. "Tell me what happened."

John Sheppard filled in the gaps in Caldwell's story, just as Sam had hoped. The strain was obvious in his eyes and his voice. Regret was equally clear.

"Wraith were still on the planet when we got there," he said, "they hadn't left. We found them without much trouble actually. An out of the way cave the Esnorians had forgotten all about. It was pretty low tech as far as the Wraith go, I'd say. That was until we ran into the force fields and some really blood thirsty Wraith, including our friend the Queen."

"Why would she be on a planet like Esnor?" Sam asked. "What could be so important?"

"McKay, undoubtedly."

"Really?"

"Ridiculous as it might seem, yes," John said. "And when we get him back promise me you'll never tell him I said this. Seems he's indispensable to the Wraith. Remember that little subterfuge the Queen lady tried to pull on us a year or so ago?"

"I remember reading Dr. Weir's report of the incident, yes," Sam answered. "They wanted Rodney to develop a delivery system for the retrovirus. The hive Queen was trying to kill off the competition."

"Or so she told us," Sheppard replied. "When the so called alliance went to hell, it was hard to know what she really wanted."

"And now?"

"When we made it back to the planet, the Esnorians told us the Wraith specifically demanded Rodney, 'the man who can destroy our enemies'. They led them to Rodney to avoid a culling."

"And when you tracked them down?"

"We found Rodney, in one of those damned cocoons."

"That's where I'm a little lost, John," Sam said. "I thought that was like a stasis of some sort where the victim remained untouched."

"Some things have changed with the Wraith, Colonel," John said. "They're more desperate, their food source is running out. Besides, feeding also gives them information, and it seems they can only digest so much at once. At least that's what the Esnorians tell us."

"So Rodney's abilities, knowledge, that's what they're after?"

"Yes, Ma'am," John said. "Seems Rodney's finally found someone who fully appreciates his unique talents. Don't think this is exactly what he had in mind."

"I'm sure it wasn't," Sam said. Her face was a mask of utter determination. "Select a team, Colonel. Daedalus will be landing in a few hours. We'll need time to finalize plans; then I'll lead the team you select. We're going after McKay. Carter out."

TBC

* * *

A/N: After all these chapters, wow – I really appreciate your ongoing reviews, comments, e-mails and just the fact that readers continue to be interested in the story.

Please feel free to give me input about Atlantis characters as I know I'm still behind on them. Especially with the Wraith backstory, I'll be making it up a bit as I go along. Please let me know how I'm doing !!!


	46. Chapter 46 Sam to the Rescue

A/N: From the smaller number of reviews recently and some honest feedback, I'm sensing readers aren't into a drawn out Atlantis rescue mission. Still there are some who've expressed interest in reading "Commander Sam" action.

Yay for fanfiction reviews giving this writer an idea of what readers want!! However, I know I can't make everyone happy all the time.

So this chapter will be devoted wholly to the chase after McKay. Further chapters may refer to this, but it won't be a main focus after this chapter. And I promise, more Sam and Jack soon.

OoOoOo

_Last time: "I'm sure it wasn't," Sam said. Her face was a mask of utter determination. Select a team, Colonel. Daedalus will be landing in a few hours. We'll need time to finalize plans; then I'll lead the team you select. We're going after McKay. Carter out."_

* * *

CHAPTER 46: SAM TO THE RESCUE 

There was quite a reception waiting for Colonel Carter when she returned to Atlantis. A hero's welcome in fact. Most of the base assembled to welcome her as she disembarked from Daedalus. The mood was muted because of concern for Rodney McKay, but overall, they were clearly glad to have her back. Moreover, everyone was eager to show their support after her ignominious recall a little over a month earlier. To a man (or woman) they'd been certain of her innocence and rejoiced in her total vindication.

Much had happened during her absence. John Sheppard had ably filled the command position; his growing abilities were beginning to be recognized even by the more hardened military types. Dr. Keller had grown steadily into her responsibilities. Teyla had experienced a life changing revelation and, of course, McKay was gone. Right now, Sam was needed as much for her technical and scientific expertise as her military leadership.

So when the commander of Atlantis greeted everyone quickly and went directly to the lab she shared with Rodney McKay, no one was especially surprised. After all, she had work to do and someone to save, a man known to everyone on base. John Sheppard followed her. Had to admit, it was difficult to match the woman's pace. She was definitely on a mission.

"Colonel Carter," he called.

"John," she said belatedly, recognizing his efforts to keep up with her and slowing up a bit. "I'm sorry, come with me. I need to get working on a tracking device to locate the Wraith ship that has Rodney. You and I both know we don't have much time."

"Or more precisely, Rodney doesn't have much time," John suggested. "What do you have in mind? You know we're not a match for a hive ship."

"I'm not planning on a frontal attack," Sam said, already booting up her computer and paging Zelenka to bring her up to speed. "I'm counting on the fact that McKay thinks I'm smarter than he is."

"What?" Sheppard began, hoping this wouldn't devolve into a battle of mega-egos. He couldn't believe Sam Carter could sink to Rodney's level on that, but one never knew.

"Don't worry," Sam said as if reading his thoughts. "I'm planning to use Rodney's insecurities to our advantage. From what you've told me, the Wraith have already started to feed on Dr. McKay. So if Rodney believes I'm more capable, so do the Wraith and…"

"And you're going to use yourself as bait."

"Exactly," Sam said emphatically. "Once we get close enough, we bring them to us."

OoOoOo

The plan Sam developed with Caldwell and Sheppard didn't require precise tracking of the Wraith ship. All they needed was a general location. The rest would depend on Samantha Carter's reading of the situation. If she was right, they had a fighting chance.

Sam spent the next several hours in conference with Zelenka and other scientists who worked closely with McKay. In the few months she'd spent on Atlantis prior to the recall, Sam had come to appreciate the talent of men like Zelenka, the ones often unnoticed in the shadow of their flamboyant superiors. During the time available, Sam and her professional colleagues worked non-stop to develop and test technology needed for the upcoming operation.

Strategy meetings with department heads and military officers came next. In Sam's mind it was possible, but highly unlikely that a botched mission could lead to repercussions for Atlantis. If the worst happened they would have to be ready.

Finally, as Daedalus prepped for rapid redeployment, Sam met with her primary team and the very disturbed Lt. Colonel who wasn't coming with them. Once the others were dismissed, Sam's second in command remained behind to question the wisdom of his superior's decision.

"Colonel Carter, permission to speak freely," John Sheppard requested, clearly beside himself with the idea he was to stay on Atlantis, away from the action.

"Permission granted, John," Sam said, fully aware of his concern.

"I should be coming with you," he said. "Why am I staying here?"

"Because after me you're the one best qualified to command this base," Sam said, pausing to take the measure of the man standing before her. "John, if everything goes as planned, we're all coming back in one piece. But you've been out here longer that I have; the unexpected has a way of finding us, more often than not. Atlantis can't afford to lose both of us."

Lt. Colonel Sheppard knew she was right. Nonetheless, being reminded of what could go wrong didn't make him feel any better.

"Understood, Ma'am," he said. "But may I say, if anything happens to you and I'm sitting on my butt back here, General O'Neill is going to kill me."

Despite her best efforts to maintain a serious facial expression, worthy of command, Sam smiled widely at John Sheppard's comments. "I'm going with a battleship to back me up. Let me take care of my husband, John," she replied. "You take care of Atlantis when I'm gone. And don't break anything I'm going to have to fix when I get back. Okay?"

Sam's attempt at humor did little to lighten Sheppard's mood. Still he realized he didn't have much of a choice. And, if they wanted Rodney back this was as good a way as any to do it.

"We'll keep the door open and the lights on, Ma'am."

"I know you will," Sam said confidently. "Dismissed."

OoOoOo

Daedalus made the jump to hyperspace just moments after liftoff. It was a relatively short trip.

The team would set up base on a deserted world, send out a homing signal and wait for the Wraith to take the bait. In consultation with Teyla, Ronan and Sheppard, Sam had settled upon Brytek, a small otherwise deserted moon, located a bit outside known Wraith territory, but close enough to the base of operations for the hive ship itself. With any luck, the ship they were looking for would be in close proximity, and able to pick up their beacon.

Equipped with state of the art Asgard beaming technology and recently upgraded with Ancient defense shields and cloaking devices, Daedalus quietly took up position on the far side of the moon. Silent running was the order of the day. Soon after their arrival at Brytek, Sam and a small contingent beamed down to explore the surface. Finding no obvious dangers, Sam remained alone while the others returned to Daedalus, prepared to return at a moment's notice. They'd know when the target arrived and the time was right to return. If they didn't, their commander might be lost as well.

Once Sam was alone on Brytek, she activated the subspace beacon modified durng her last few hours in Atlantis. This would send a signal specifically to the Wraith hive ship, alerting them to the presence of their highly prized human quarry. There was no telling how long it would take the Queen to take the bait. Patience was a precious commodity today.

Sam bored easily and staring at dry sandy ground with the occasional rocky outcropping didn't help. As she waited, she started talking to herself, rehearsing some rather original lines to add to her familiar Jack-isms when negotiating with the Hive Queen. As she checked and rechecked the special gadgets she'd prepared for this mission, Sam reminded herself that although Jack-isms were entertaining and recalled a certain incredibly handsome man she missed like crazy, it wasn't a good idea to purposely irritate the Wraith. After all, they had no sense of humor. Yes, she would have to make nice, boring as that might be.

All-in-all, Sam didn't have to wait for long. As the subspace beacon transmitted an invitation from one Colonel Samantha Carter, the predatory creatures receiving the message found the promise of knowledge and influence it offered too much to resist.

From orbit, the hive ship determined there was one and only one life sign on the moon.

Before light dimmed on that barren world, Samantha Carter had company.

The most brilliant woman in at least two galaxies wasn't sure she was ready for these particular visitors. Her experience with the Wraith was limited and what experience she had wasn't pleasant. On the good side, she'd found out she wasn't particularly appetizing to these normally omnivorous creatures. Something about that pesky protein marker made her an undesirable food source. _Thank you, Jolinar_, she thought. That meant they'd have to get what they wanted from her the old fashioned way. And that gave Samantha Carter an advantage from the start.

So much for rehearsal; the main event was about to get underway. Sam had beamed down unarmed, carrying only a single backpack containing what she needed for the job. Attached to her standard issue watch was a microscopic locator chip she hoped would come in handy.

"You are the one who summoned us?" The questioning voice came from the eerily familiar figure of the Hive Queen. After watching Weir's recordings of past confrontations with this creature, Sam would recognize her anywhere. What she couldn't get used to was the sickly, other-worldly appearance of these vampire-like beings. The blending of the human and Iratus bug DNA had certainly created a forbidding look, right out of old time horror films, in Sam's opinion.

"I am," Sam replied, stating the obvious and wondering what irreverent quip her husband might have thrown out in this situation.

The Queen wasn't alone. Flanked by half a dozen of her personal guard, she approached the lone human standing before her. Studying Sam closely, she gestured for the others to keep their distance. Then the Queen began to circle her potential prey.

Sam took a deep, calming breath. She reminded herself she was far from an appetizing food source for this 'woman'. That thought helped her relax slightly as the Queen sniffed her cautiously. Apparently, Sam's poisonous nature was abundantly clear to the leader of the Hive. She stopped her reconnaissance and stood directly in front of Sam.

"You are the leader," she said, "and the great scientist of Atlantis."

"I am a leader and a scientist, yes," Sam answered. "I can help you get what you want."

"And how do you know what we want?"

"Experience," Sam answered. "I know why you took Dr. McKay."

"Impossible, you weren't even there when McKay 'helped' us last," the Wraith protested. "What do you think you know?"

"There's the little matter of the retrovirus, and a delivery system if I recall correctly," Sam answered calmly. She didn't want to provoke her counterpart. At the same time, she didn't want to allow herself to be provoked. "You're having a hard time getting the information from Dr. McKay, aren't you?"

"Why should it be difficult?" the Wraith taunted. "We can extract information and anything else we want."

"Then why did you bother to answer a call from one insignificant human on this God forsaken piece of space rock?"

The female Wraith seemed to stop and consider her answer for a moment. "We are told that you are exceedingly more capable than Dr. McKay. You may prove valuable to us in defeating our enemies and competitors."

Sam struggled to avoid signs of weakness, even the nervous, subconscious gestures she would normally make, like chewing on her lip. Her face a blank slate, she replied in an even tone, "I have a price."

"Ah, a price," the Queen jeered. "The human has a price for her help. You amuse me. Tell me, why should I not simply take you where you stand and extract what I need?"

"Well," Sam said, silently activating her subspace communications device, "first of all, because my life force is poison to you. Secondly …"

As if on cue, a strike force of a dozen soldiers from Daedelus, including Teyla and Ronon, materialized. Fully armed with energy weapons and P-90s, they surrounded the Wraith and took aim.

"That's why," Sam explained with satisfaction. "They won't hesitate to kill any of you. Some of them might actually enjoy the exercise," she said, in a tone she hoped was intimidating. And now for my price."

"Exactly what would that be, Colonel Carter?"

"The immediate release of Dr. McKay."

The silence was profound. The Hive Queen paced, prowled really, in front of Sam, while her guards stood steadily in their places, held there in the sights of powerful weapons. The Queen herself has two weapons trained on her as well. Still her movement was undeterred. Sam could almost hear the wheels turning in her deformed and compulsive brain.

"How would we go about this?"

"You let him go," Sam said simply, thinking Jack would be proud. "Transport him here to the moon and let us take him home.

"And once we do that, what promise do we have that you will help us?"

"You have my word."

"Certainly you would not trust my word. Why should I believe yours?"

_You shouldn't, you idiot_, Sam thought. Then aloud, "Simultaneous transport," she said. Take me with you while McKay materializes here."

"I have a much better idea," was the response from her adversary. "You come with us and fulfill your part of the bargain. Then we send Dr. McKay back with you."

"That's one way to do it," Sam said. "Then again, how do I know you will keep your word?"

The Queen was becoming increasingly agitated. Though hardly an expert in Wraith facial expressions, the creature's snarling and the flaring of her nostrils were Sam's first clues. However irritated she was, the Wraith leader had limited options; she was surrounded and outnumbered. For now at least, she would have to play fair. But even as the negotiation continued, high above this verbal sparring ground, other warriors took advantage of her distraction.

Unawares, the Wraith Queen persisted. "Certainly you know we are unable to feed upon you. Your unique physiology should provide you with some degree of reassurance as to your safety."

Before Sam could deliver her next parry, Teyla caught her eye and delivered the prearranged signal.

"Not enough, I'm afraid," Sam said.

At nearly the same moment, the Queen realized what was happening. She had been deceived, worse yet, distracted. As she conducted this ill conceived negotiation, a raiding party had penetrated her ship. And as rapidly as they had come, they were gone.

"No!!! You have deceived me," the enraged Queen bellowed.

"Indeed," was all Sam could say before the Asgard beam pulled her and the team back to Daedalus.

TBC

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A/N: Eagerly awaiting reviews. Rest assured any confusion from this chapter, will be cleared up in the next. Feel free to toss out questions! 

Please push the little button!


	47. Chapter 47 My Wife, Intergalactic Hero

A/N: Reading recent comments on the story has been helpful. Thanks to all for taking the time. It's going to be a balancing act, but I'll do my best to keep the story on the right track for as many readers as possible!

* * *

MY WIFE, INTERGALACTIC HERO

Sharing Sam with the universe had never been Jack's idea of a good time. Current circumstances were no exception.

He knew Sam's talents were unique and her abilities crucial to successful off world operations. That didn't mean he had to like it.

Only this morning he'd received a hale and hearty briefing from George Hammond on his wife's most recent larger than life adventure. His beautiful Sam had outsmarted a long lived leader of a vicious predatory race. She'd risked her own life once again to save someone under her command -- Rodney McKay of all people. _Couldn't it have been someone just a bit less aggravating? _

He was proud of her. As her former commanding officer and now her lover and husband, he was so very proud of her. She was the epitome of a strong, independent woman and still she loved _him_. He'd stopped trying to figure that one out long ago. What he still needed to figure out was how to encourage her to spread her wings, when what he really wanted was to hold her, tight and safe, with him.

The results of Sam spreading her wings sat in front of him in the form of her own review of recent events. Basically the data burst Hammond had provided him was Sam's first hand account of her toe-to-toe with the Wraith Queen. Most of it was her official report; attached however, was a brief message intended only for him.

Sam had been gone ten days. In that time, she'd made it to Atlantis, worked her magic, and went off to save Rodney McKay from a fate worse than death. He wished he could hear about it live from Sam. But for some reason, live communications were still off line. He'd have to settle for the data burst Hammond sent him. At least there was both audio and video of his favorite hero telling her story. That would have to be enough for today.

Jack sat back and began to play Sam's report. As her face filled the screen, he breathed deeply. It had been a little over a week. He missed her so much already. _How the hell am I going to do this for six months?_

His negativity was cut short by the sound of Sam's voice. She sounded so professional, totally in control, reporting the facts and in this case, the utter success of a brilliantly executed rescue. He listened, entranced.

"We planned to distract the Queen in a way that would disrupt her telepathic link with the ship. It didn't need to work for long, just long enough to allow the strike force to board and retrieve Dr. McKay.

"Without the Atlantean technology at our fingertips, we'd never have been able to execute the plan. Fortunately, Dr. McKay had made progress on shield penetrating technology and had mapped the entrances/exits of the Wraith vessel on his last visit. This allowed the strike force selected by Colonel Sheppard to beam precisely to Dr. McKay's location, disable the force field and bring him back aboard the Daedalus.

"Similarly, when the mission was accomplished, Teyla received the message from Daedalus and alerted me. At that point, all I needed to do was activate my homing device. With that Daedalus beamed me and the security contingent to safety. As planned, Daedalus made an immediate jump to hyperspace before they were detected by the hive ship. We were back in Atlantis the same day.

"We haven't heard from the Wraith since the mission. It's been two days now. Dr. McKay remains in the infirmary. He's regained consciousness, but continues to recover from his wounds and the overall trauma of his captivity. I fear he will require psychological as well as physical rehabilitation."

At that point, the screen went blank for five seconds. Then Sam's face returned. Her expression softer, for Jack's eyes only.

"Hi. General Hammond told me you'd be the only one viewing this. Hope he was right.

I feel like I've been chasing myself since I left Earth. Now I'm back on Atlantis, there'll be lots of catching up to do. Most people seem genuinely happy to see me back. I hope I can justify their faith in me.

"I miss you, Jack. The best I can hope for right now is to get live communications up ASAP. I want to talk with you. But for now, know I love you."

And she was gone.

Jack O'Neill mouthed the words he longed to say to his wife. In the silence, he prayed she heard them across the galaxy.

OoOoOo

Over the past two days, Dr. Keller had gradually stopped hovering over her star patient. Rodney McKay had regained consciousness almost immediately after being removed from the Wraith cocoon.

As time passed, Keller, Sheppard, Zelenka and others helped him fill in the gaps of the past week. He'd been cognizant of his surroundings while in the cocoon, in spite of the sedative and paralytic agents that had been administered. He remembered being terrified.

Sam had stopped to check on him frequently during the past two days, but as he'd been drifting in and out, she'd yet to catch him awake. Until now.

"Rodney, you're awake," Sam said, coming to stand by his bedside. "That's progress. How are you feeling?"

"Not bad, thanks to you," he said, realizing he'd owe this woman a debt of gratitude for a long while.

"We got lucky Rodney," Sam said, "and we used quite a bit of your work in the process. You're welcome."

Rodney, sitting up relatively pain free for the first time since his return said thoughtfully, "It's good to have you back." Then he held her eyes for a moment and continued, "There's a rumor I wanted to ask you about."

"Really? And what would that be?"

"You know folks on the station. There's a lot of gossip going around. There's this pesky rumor you went and got married."

"That pesky rumor is right, Rodney."

Sam could see his face fall and the wheels turning. She smiled, realizing the real Rodney McKay was back sooner than she thought he'd be.

"Is there anything else?"

"Uh … yeah … there's this other rumor that you're married to, you know, General … O'Neill."

"Yep, they got that one right too, Rodney," she said, unable to contain the smile on her face.

OoOoOo

Jack checked with Hammond three times a day. He was determined to talk with Sam as soon as live communication was restored. What was the use of having that special computer if you couldn't use. In the meantime he'd settle for Hammond's offer of a 60 second audio burst on the next Stargate transmission.

He wanted to be there with her. As it was, he was relegated to glorified desk duty. Jack spent most of his time these days going to bat for Atlantis and the Stargate program with the Home Ops Appropriations Committee. Explaining to battle hardened Generals and government penny pinchers the reason for financing esoteric research into wormhole physics and subspace fields, he found himself way out of his professional league. Still he wished Sam could see him; he actually got most of the words right. In fact, Jack realized he understood more than he gave himself credit for most of the time. Must have been all those years listening to Sam's beloved techno-babble. What he'd give for a little of that gobbledygook from Sam's lips right about now!

At least he could do this much for Sam. Just let them try and deny her anything she needed for her safety or success. There would be hell to pay. Maybe he couldn't watch "her six" off-world anymore, but he could make certain she got what she needed for her job. He could take care of her in that at least.

Hammond told him on several occasions he'd become a persuasive, even appropriately diplomatic advocate for the program over the past few years. That was good, he supposed. Thank goodness, there was more to his assignment than talking about money. Tactical planning and decisions related to off-world intelligence were also part of his role and much more to his liking.

He'd been offered other assignments from time to time. Most recently he'd been approached to supervise training of airmen and officers chosen for SGC or off-world service. He'd be good at that; scare the hell out of them, but he'd be good at it. Who better, he figured. It would bring him closer to the action. But that would have to wait. As long as Sam was off-world he damn well wanted some say over what happened out there.

Whenever he started to feel sorry for himself, Jack quickly remembered people struggling with much bigger problems. And he didn't have far to look. Uppermost in his mind was the seriously ill infant he'd saved less than four months ago. From what Christina told him now, Charlie would need a bone marrow transplant. The search for a donor had just begun and with it another chapter in that family's newest nightmare.

Jack O'Neill had much for which to be grateful. The person he loved most in the world was alive and well, albeit in another galaxy. And she planned to come home to him.

With those thoughts, Jack began to pack up his office for the evening. It was 2000 hours and past time to head home. From experience with having a desk, Jack realized it helped to come into a clean workspace in the morning. So as he began to straighten up, he placed papers, files, computer supplies in the appropriate drawers. As he opened a drawer he'd left untouched for a few days, he was greeted with a surprise. A carefully wrapped box, and attached to it an envelope clearly addressed in Sam's script, awaited him.

Jack sat down, barely able to contain his pleasure. He could feel the smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he opened the small note card and read the first line.

"Hi. Here's a little something to help you remember me. Please open the package and I'll have more to say."

Jack tore into the box with the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning. Taking in the contents, he sat back in his chair and chuckled to himself. There in his hands was a decorative, custom designed wooden picture frame with the words "Gone Fishing" carved into the frame itself. The picture in the frame was one of his favorites, a great shot of him and Sam at their Minnesota wedding, smiling like the day would never end. Attached to the back of the frame was another note.

"Remember, I'll be back in September. Should be some fishing time left in Minnesota, right? See you then, flyboy!"

TBC

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A/N: Just so you know, the first reader to review this chapter gets to post review **# 1000. **Can you believe it? I'm impressed. Thank you so much for your support of this story and my efforts. You make it so much fun to write!!!


	48. Chapter 48 Degrees of Separation

A/N: Congrats to stusue for being the 1000th reviewer. Now if I were a famous author, I could offer a prize. As it is, simply a big **thank you!**

Oh, and by the way, **spoiler for SGA, season 4**, ahead.

OoOoOo

DEGREES OF SEPARATION

Her body ached for him. Sam had no idea it would be like this. Marrying Jack before returning to Atlantis was supposed to make the separation easier. _Big mistake, she thought. _Not marrying Jack, but imagining it would make the separation easier, big mistake, that. All she'd succeeded in doing was finding out exactly how much she had to miss when they were separated.

For most of the past month, she'd been too busy to spend much time pining over Jack. It was those moments in between crises that got her in trouble. And of course her frustration over the continuing lack of live communication. Sure she'd heard his voice in taped data bursts sent through the gate from time to time, but it wasn't the same. She wanted to talk _with_ him, tell him about her day, and listen to what he had to say about his, all those normal things people in a relationship did. Did that mean she was getting soft? Was she too old, too sentimental for this job? No, it simply meant she missed her husband.

At what passed for daybreak on Atlantis' new homeworld, Sam prepared for the first order of the day, check in with her flagship team. Ronon, Sheppard, McKay and Teyla remained the premier explorers of Atlantis, though the dynamic would be changing soon.

She thought back to the first few days after they'd returned with Rodney. Getting back into the swing of things as commander of Atlantis had been a challenge. So much had happened, so quickly. Accused of espionage and treason, removed from her command, publicly exonerated and of course married, Sam O'Neill had been through monumental changes before she boarded the Daedalus for the return trip. For the next three weeks, she had little time to catch up with herself. The showdown with the Wraith Queen, their narrow escape and the adjustments facing two of her senior people had conspired to keep Sam jumping. For better of worse, things had started to slow down the past few days. She finally had time to herself.

Contrary to popular opinion, it wasn't always high excitement and adventure on the only Earth outpost in the Pegasus galaxy. Some days were simply dull collections of hours where everyone went about their chores, assignments and duties, many of which were quite pedestrian. On days like that, with no invader knocking on the door and no breath taking discovery being sent through the gate, Sam too was relegated to fairly pedantic administrative tasks. It reminded her of how frustrated Jack must have been as commander of the SGC, where being a desk jockey had been such a large part of his day. Stop to think about it, he wasn't a lot happier with things now. Except of course when they were together, those were the moments little else really mattered.

Sam shook herself free of thoughts distracting her from today's primary duty. She was due at morning briefing with Sheppard's team. If she recalled correctly, their next mission was to get underway in less than two hours. This would be the first mission McKay accompanied since his encounter with the Wraith. And the first mission Teyla would sit out since the discovery of her pregnancy.

Sam was still a bit off balance from her last conversation with Teyla. Seems her passing out on the mission where McKay was captured stemmed largely from her physical reactions to early pregnancy. Sam had been brought up to speed by Dr. Keller as soon as she'd returned from the rescue mission. Teyla had been reluctant to discuss it herself, eventually coming to Sam a full day later.

One of the things Sam disliked about command was her need to know normally personal, oft times sensitive information about people, information they'd rather keep private. She didn't enjoy invading that privacy. At times, her professionally necessary knowledge was resented by a person under her command. Fortunately, that had not been the case with Teyla.

When Teyla had approached her the day after McKay's successful rescue, she'd been quite open with the circumstances surrounding her current predicament. Sam supposed that had been part of the problem. Teyla considered the pregnancy just that, a predicament. Clearly she was not happy she was going to have a baby. To Sam, the alien woman seemed to be in mourning if anything. And that reaction seemed so foreign to her.

Knowing her own chances of conceiving were slim to none, Sam found herself envying any woman who had children, certainly any woman who had the good fortune to become pregnant. Intellectually, she realized pregnancy wasn't always a reason for celebration. Still, all she knew was, for her it would be, hopefully would be … someday.

But for Teyla, it was anything but. Though she refused to name the person who'd fathered the child, it was clear she was anything but happy about the liaison. Exactly what happened was clothed in mystery even after Teyla told Sam what she recalled. The only thing abundantly clear was Teyla's distaste for having this child.

Sam had enquired as tactfully as she could whether Teyla had approached Dr. Keller about the possibility of a termination. Teyla had hung her head sadly and announced that such a procedure was unheard of on her planet. To voluntarily terminate what her people considered the "youngest of all life" was held to be an unforgivable sin. And so she would have this child and one of two things would happen. Perhaps as her Arthosian mentor suggested, she would bond with the child instinctively as she held it in her arms. Or, and Teyla considered this more likely, she and her friends would find a more suitable home for it with parents who would love it in spite of its unwelcome beginnings.

She'd done her best to listen and encourage this enigmatic woman who was slowly becoming a friend. As if her pregnancy wasn't trial enough for her, it had become clear that off world travel was no longer a good idea. Now, starting her second trimester, Teyla experienced many problems including a threatened miscarriage. In spite of her personal desire to be rid of her burden, Teyla respected the beliefs of her people and insisted that everything be done to preserve the unborn life. That said, Teyla was taken off the active duty roster and assigned tasks on base. What's more, in less than two months she would again follow Athosian tradition and return to her homeworld for the remainder of the pregnancy.

And McKay? Well, Rodney had fared better than Sam expected. Sure he'd had a meltdown over her initial suggestion he return to Earth for his recovery. But once she'd compromised on a plan allowing him to remain on inactive status and stay in Atlantis to receive treatment, he'd reverted to his old, obnoxious self. Though he'd be the last to admit it, he'd suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a not unexpected result of his horrific five day captivity. Under protest, he'd agreed to see Dr. Bradley, the resident shrink as Rodney christened him. Sam recalled how much Jack had hated Dr. McKenzie and tried to be understanding of Rodney's resistance. Fortunately, he'd given in and talked with the man. Even Rodney admitted it had helped. And he'd been cleared for active duty. Sam initially suspected it was too soon, but she'd learned to trust Bradley's judgment.

"Colonel, good morning," Sheppard said, standing as Sam entered the room. The Atlantis briefing room was a far cry from its counterpart at the SGC, spacious, open, filled with light, it reminded her of a fortune 500 company office.

"Good morning, John, everyone," Sam said, nodding to Sheppard's team and the researchers who'd be accompanying them this time out. "Hope everyone had a good night."

"Yes, Ma'am," Rodney said enthusiastically. "I can't wait to get out there."

"Yeah, Rodney, and I'll bet she can't wait to get you out there so you're out of her hair," John Sheppard quipped, earning an indignant glare from his commanding officer.

"Sorry Ma'am," he said. "I couldn't help myself." Teyla looked at him indulgently, while Colonel Carter was clearly not amused.

"Gentlemen, if it isn't too inconvenient, do you think we could proceed with this briefing?" Sam asked. "I believe Teyla and Captain Haskell have intelligence to share with us that might be helpful in recovering the artifacts we're seeking."

With that Teyla and Haskell took over the session and Carter's wilting gaze seemed to keep everyone in good order for the duration. Within half an hour, the meeting concluded. The team was scheduled to leave in twenty minutes. While everyone left to suit up, Teyla remained behind to speak with Sam.

"Colonel Carter, do you have a moment?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course," Sam replied automatically. "Let's walk over to my office."

Once settled behind closed doors, Sam noticed the sudden silence that enveloped Teyla and decided to move things along.

"How are you doing with the change?" Sam asked.

"You mean not going with my team? Not well," Teyla answered honestly. "I should be with them."

"I think I understand how you feel," Sam said. "I remember the times I couldn't go with SG1 for some reason. It was like I really should be there. It felt wrong somehow."

"Yes, that's how I feel," Teyla replied sadly. "And knowing this situation will go on for some time…" Her voice trailed off, her eyes failing to meet Sam's.

"We'll have to make sure what you do here on Atlantis benefits your team," Sam said trying to be helpful. "Personally, I think we can do that."

"I hope so, Colonel."

"How are you feeling, Teyla?"

"I'm well, Colonel," Teyla replied. "The medication Dr. Keller gave me seems to have helped."

"Good," Sam said, wanting to ask more. She wanted to know if Teyla felt anymore bonded to this pregnancy, but knew it wasn't her place to ask. But for some reason, it seemed Teyla wanted to answer that unasked question.

"I wish I could feel something for this child," Teyla said sadly. "Yet I do not want it. I resent its very presence within me. Does that make me a monster, Colonel?"

Looking at Teyla with the eyes of a friend, Sam replied gently, "No, that doesn't make you a monster. I'm afraid it does make you a woman with a very heavy heart."

Teyla nodded, understanding completely. Her heart _was_ heavy. Truth be told many on her home planet _would_ think her a monster should they know her thoughts. And she suspected the woman commanding Atlantis may think poorly of her as well, despite her protestation to the contrary.

"But you believe I should want this baby, don't you, Colonel?"

Sam was impressed by Teyla's insight once again. It was difficult to put much of anything past this perceptive, empathic woman. And so she voiced her unguarded thoughts.

"Honestly, Teyla, I don't know what you should do," Sam said. "But when I see anyone pregnant, I'm so envious. I don't know if I'll ever be able to have a child. And I want one so much." Sam pulled herself back abruptly, struggling with her desire to cultivate a friendship with this woman. "All that's to say don't take me too seriously when it comes to your pregnancy. I've got my own issues, I suppose you'd say. But I do want to see you at some peace with all this."

"I understand," Teyla replied softly. Then, correctly interpreting Sam's sudden coolness as a realization she'd said more than she intended, Teyla politely put an end to the conversation. "I'll be going now, Colonel," she said. Then, almost as an afterthought she added, "I believe there is a possibility live communications with Earth will be restored sometime today. I thought perhaps you would be interested."

With that Teyla stood up and slowly took her leave. But not before catching the gentle smile on Sam's lips.

OoOoOo

Sam did her best to stay awake waiting for the promised restoration of communications. Finally she gave up and dozed off, reluctantly giving up on the long awaited call for another day. As usual, her dreams were filled with Jack, and she cherished each and every one. She'd found herself trying to recall the details of some of these precious nighttime gifts, even going as far as to journal them. If Jack only knew, he'd think she was three fries short of a happy meal, or at least hopelessly in love, but he already knew that.

Tonight's dream was filled with scenes of Jack finding the hidden treasures she'd left for him around the house, around his office and those yet to be delivered on random dates. She was a bit disappointed. Her favorite dreams were those where they were together. She had enough separateness during the day. But then again she'd take what she could get. Had to admit she'd love to see his face when he found some of those silly things she'd left for him. Like the hot pink yo-yo in his classified desk drawer…

Hey, she couldn't help herself. For the last few days before she left, she'd made a point of leaving little gifts or messages in places he'd _eventually_ find them. And she'd scheduled e-mails and deliveries of special gifts spaced over the six month period. In her heart, Sam Carter O'Neill knew she wouldn't the only one struggling with this separation; she didn't want her husband having any doubts about how much he meant to her.

_Ring, ring, ring… _the insistent, near chirping sound of the base intercom finally woke her. Disoriented at first, she immediately looked to her monitor expecting to be notified of a pending emergency. What she saw was an incoming message, live communications!

She wasn't dreaming. It was Jack!

* * *

A/N: Decided to end the chapter with a little helping of fluff, before we get back to serious issues. Charlie will be back in the next chapter and I'm planning return engagements for Daniel and Teal'c as well, though likely cameos.

Thanks again for your support and attention. Love to hear from you.


	49. Chapter 49 Saving Charlie

A/N: **WARNING**: The arch villain of this story returns in this chapter, at his most villainous. Just when you thought he was gone!

OoOoOo

Last time_: She wasn't dreaming. It was Jack!_

OoOoOo

CHAPTER 49: SAVING CHARLIE

"Hi."

"Hi yourself," she replied. "You woke me up."

"Well then I'll say good night and call you later," Jack threatened in a soothing, teasing tone.

"No, no, no," Sam said, reaching out toward the screen. "Don't you dare!"

Sam couldn't miss the self-satisfied smirk on her husband's face.

"You sure?" he quipped.

"Jaaack …" Sam all but whined.

"Okay, I get the message, enough teasing," he said, his smile softening, eyes twinkling and yes, his dimples showing. "How are you?"

"Much better, now I can talk with you. Miss you."

"Me too."

Sam knew she had a silly smile on her face. She was too tired to care; even if she was wide awake she wouldn't have cared. This was the next best thing to being face to face with Jack. Finally. She couldn't resist placing her fingers gently on the monitor, to be closer. Not unexpectedly, Jack reached back and their fingertips met, at least digitally.

"Sorry I woke you," Jack said. "Forgot the time difference."

"No problem, this was what I was waiting for all day," she admitted.

"Good day?"

"Actually it was boring, no chaos. Everyone did what they were supposed to do, things ran like clockwork."

"And that's bad because …"

"Not bad exactly," Sam said. "Just gives me more time to think about being away from you."

Jack smiled softly, encouragement and love shining in his eyes. What he'd give to take her in his arms.

"If things keep going like that, they'll never let you go," he said, remembering Sam's plan to make some changes after this six month commitment.

"Don't worry, I'm sure the craziness will return, always does," Sam said. "Tomorrow there'll be another evil villain breathing down our necks."

"And my brave wife will save everyone from certain death."

"Of course," Sam said. "Which superhero costume do you think I should wear?"

"How about the tight spandex one," Jack said. "By the way, you could try that one on now. I'd be happy to check it out for you."

"You're impossible."

"Yes, I am," Jack said. "But you love me."

"Yes, I do."

"Hey, I got flowers today," Jack said after a moment of looking intently at his wife. "No one ever sent me flowers before."

"First time for everything," Sam replied, gratified at the clear sound of appreciation she caught in Jack's voice.

"I didn't know they had Telaflorist in the Pegasus Galaxy," Jack observed nonchalantly.

"You'll have to come and visit, see everything we have," she teased. "You might be surprised."

"I'm hoping to get out there soon, Sam," Jack said, suddenly becoming serious. "I want to hold you so much it hurts."

"I know," Sam said. "What about you, how are you?"

"Besides hurting? Well, let me see. Loving the job as usual," he quipped. "Missing my stunningly beautiful wife and generally in good health, I'd say." Jack paused, his teasing grin abating ever so slightly. "I'm afraid I have some bad news. Little Charlie is going to need a bone marrow transplant."

"I'm so sorry," Sam said sincerely, knowing how close Jack had become to the tiny child. "I hoped he might be able to survive without the transplant."

"Apparently, the remission didn't last," Jack said. "The doctors tell Christina the best option is the transplant. They're looking for a donor."

"So how's the search going?"

"Not so well," Jack said, working to control his emotions. "They start with family, best chance of a tissue match. Christina wasn't a match. Then of course there was Charlie's father."

"And was General Francis a match?"

"Don't know. The son of a bitch refused to be tested."

OoOoOo

Raymond Francis had been locked up in a federal penitentiary since his court martial two months earlier. He'd done his best to pursue routes of appeal, but his attorney, an impatient man on the best of days finally told him he was lucky to get _only_ twenty years and should leave well enough alone. Needless to say that piece of advice did not sit well with a narcissist the caliber of Raymond Francis and the beleaguered barrister was soon minus one very irritating client.

Incarceration was not his style. A man of exquisite taste and peculiarly idiosyncratic preferences, he valued his individualism and the God given right to do as he pleased. Well those privileges were a thing of the past. The decommissioned General was now one of several hundred prisoners, many former military officers, convicted of treason, espionage, aiding and abetting terrorists and other distasteful crimes. Even here, this shameless man felt he was superior to his fellow prisoners. Unfortunately for him, his companions didn't see it that way. He was one of them, no better, if anything perhaps lower on the pecking order because of his arrogant, superior attitude. With no friends, no one to watch him back, his was a miserable existence.

Still the man remained unbowed. Confident in his divine right, he believed others would soon see the error of their ways. So when his estranged, soon to be ex-wife, Laura, came to visit one glorious May morning, he was certain she'd come to beg his forgiveness.

Laura hadn't been to see him since he was assigned to this place. Worse yet, neither had his children. In his own mind, he'd made excuses, unable to contemplate the reality of their disdain for him. They were his children after all, destined to carry on his legacy and in the case of his oldest son, David Raymond, the Francis name as well. They wouldn't turn on him, couldn't turn on him. He was their father after all. They must know how wronged he'd been by that woman. David, especially, he was a man, he'd understand in a way his mother and sister never would.

As he was led into the stark conference room, he felt encouraged to see both Laura and David waiting for him. To his way of thinking, this was a good sign. David was bound to be on his side. He'd probably had a long talk with his mother, knocking some long overdue sense into her.

"David, Laura, good to see you," Francis called in a warm, jovial tone as he entered the room and took a seat on the other side of the cold metal table. There was no need to alienate them with a reminder of how poorly they'd treated him lately.

"Raymond," Laura acknowledged him, coolly he thought, "how have you been?"

_Locked up with a bunch of losers and abandoned by my family, how the hell do you think I've been?_ Francis thought. Aloud he said, "It could be worse, I suppose. Then again I don't intend to be here very long."

"Dad, we're here to ask for your help," David said, deciding to avoid beating around the bush. After what this man had put his family through, he didn't want to be in his father's presence any longer than absolutely necessary. Still, perhaps this was his father's opportunity for redemption.

"My help? Why would you need my help?" Francis asked. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm the one locked up here."

Laura looked at her husband, trying hard to avoid showing the annoyance she felt. "We need your help for someone who's very helpless right now. Your son needs you, Raymond. You can help."

"What's wrong, David?" the convicted father asked, suddenly worried about his oldest son.

"I'm fine, Dad," the young man answered. "It's Charlie who's sick. He has leukemia."

"Charlie? You mean the Gilmore baby?" Francis commented dispassionately. "That's too bad, isn't it?"

Laura took a deep breath; she realized coming here had been a mistake. Her husband seldom cared for anyone other than himself, unless there was something in it for him.

"Your son, Charlie, is eight months old now," Laura persisted. "And he's very sick. The doctors thought they could induce a remission, but it didn't last. Long story short, Raymond, he needs a bone marrow transplant."

"Is that so?" Raymond said. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're his father," Laura said patiently. "And the best chance for a tissue match is with a first degree relative."

"Then the kid's out of luck isn't he?"

"Dad?"

"You heard me," Francis said calmly. "What don't you understand? I'm not getting poked and prodded for some stranger."

"He's your son, like I am," David said. In his mid-thirties, David had experienced his father's coldness on more than one occasion, but this, this was inexcusable, even for him.

"No, nothing like you," was the answer. "That child was a mistake, his mother's mistake, nothing more. He's already cost me enough. I want nothing to do with him."

"You won't even be tested?" Laura asked incredulously.

"That's right. I want nothing to do with this. If that's all you came for, you might as well leave, both of you."

OoOoOo

Christina spent most of her free time with Bobby these days. She'd become a fixture at the Cramer household, starting to get along rather famously with the Cramer children and drawing emotional strength from them and their father.

On the days between treatments, when Charlie was well enough to be furloughed from the hospital, he'd join the Cramers as well. It didn't feel so overwhelming for Christina with a whole family surrounding her. She was learning to care for Charlie, even when he was sick. She loved this child, in spite of her doubts and fears. And she was beginning to care for Bobby Cramer as well. But even she knew it wasn't time for that. Charlie came first.

For the past week, they'd lived through the ups and downs of getting Charlie listed on the bone marrow registry and waiting while friends and complete strangers were tested for compatibility. Christina had been crestfallen when she wasn't a match. She'd hoped she could do that for Jessica and Charlie, but it wasn't to be.

The next blow, not totally unexpected, but devastating nonetheless, was a compassionate visit from Laura Francis and her children. They'd come to see her after a discouraging visit with Charlie's father.

Christina had been grateful when Laura offered to approach her husband about being tested. Like it or not, the man was her grandson's best chance. When Laura told her Charlie's accidental father refused to help, she was sad, but not surprised. The man had little humanity about him. His refusal to help a tiny baby who happened to be his son had convinced even his own family of that.

But Laura and her children were tested. Though only half siblings, the Francis children stood a statistically better than average chance of being a match for Charlie.

And David Raymond Francis was a perfect match.

TBC

* * *

A/N: All comments, suggestions gratefully appreciated. (What do you think we should do to Raymond Francis? Federal prison is too good for him, isn't it?)

Please review!!


	50. Chapter 50 Guy Talk

_But Laura and her children were tested. Though only half siblings, the Francis children stood a statistically better than average chance of being a match for Charlie._

_And David Raymond Francis was a perfect match._

* * *

CHAPTER **50**: Guy Talk 

"Jack, glad you could come," Bobby Cramer said, welcoming his old buddy to his home. "Come on in, I'll grab you a beer. We're just about ready to fire up the grill."

"Looks like you've pulled out all the stops. These steaks look great," Jack said, walking through the kitchen and finding Bobby's sixteen-year-old daughter in charge of the cooking.

"Memorial Day only comes once a year," Bobby said. "It's a big day here."

And it was. Memorial Day at the Cramer household was much the kind of day experienced by any family who'd lost a loved one serving in the armed forces. Along with Eileen's birthday and her anniversary, Memorial Day meant a great deal to the Cramers, all of whom remembered a beloved wife and mother in a special way today.

Anne Cramer, Eileen's oldest daughter was no exception. Her capable performance in the kitchen was really a tribute to her mother who'd enjoyed teaching her daughter all sorts of skills when she was able to be at home. Justin was doing his best to be helpful, washing pots and pans as Anne used them. Then there was a sight, Jack O'Neill thought he'd never see. Christina Gilmore in an apron, apparently doing prep work as Anne's right hand woman. _Wow, would wonders never cease_, Jack thought. _If Christina can cook, anything is possible._

Conspicuously absent was thirteen-year-old Denise. When Jack asked about her, Bobby sadly inclined his head toward the stairway. "She's in her room. It's a hard day for her, Jack. Last year she was okay, this year, it's like it happened yesterday."

Jack wanted to say he understood, but he didn't. He hadn't lost his mother to war and by the grace of God he'd never lose his wife that way. He found himself wishing Sam were with him, for once not to keep him company, but to companion these two teenaged girls still mourning their mother.

"Anything I can do to help?" Jack finally asked, wanting to make things better, but not having a clue how to go about it.

"You will, just being you," Bobby said, clapping his friend on the back. "Kids love you, Jack. My kids especially. Denise will be down once she knows you're here."

"Hope so," Jack answered. To Jack there was little worse than children in pain or suffering emotionally. In their own way, Bobby's kids were still suffering from the loss of their mother. It would be awhile before it really got better.

"I see Christina's pitching in," Jack observed.

"Yeah. Cooking's not exactly her thing, but she's doing the best she can," Bobby said.

"How do the kids feel about her spending so much time here?"

"You're good, Jack," Bobby said. "There seems to be a difference of opinion. As you can see, Anne really likes her. Justin, well he's coming around."

"And Denise?"

"Well, she thinks I'm trying to replace Eileen."

"Are you?"

"I'm not even dating her," Bobby said, exasperation clear in his voice. "Christina's got too much on her mind with Charlie and all. I know better than to push things, Jack. But apparently Denise doesn't know I know."

"Have you talked to her?'

"And say what? I'm not trying to replace you mother? Pretty lame don't you think?"

"Nope," Jack said. "I'll bet that's what she's waiting to hear. And if it isn't, at least you'll give her a chance to tell you."

"You think so?" Bobby asked. "Sometimes I think they'd be better off if I were the one who didn't come home. I'm not exactly Mr. Dad."

"You know, that kind of crap isn't gonna help anybody, Cramer," Jack said, recognizing self pity when he heard it. And don't you let the kids hear it."

As Bobby started to take in Jack's strong statement, the insight was interrupted by the booming voice of his son. "Dad, where are you?" Justin called. Bobby stopped the conversation in its tracks, just in time to find Justin running head on into an unsuspecting Christina.

"Oops, sorry," eleven-year-old Justin said in the high squeaky voice that made him want to hide. The boy was struggling to accept his father's new friend; his own pre-adolescent awkwardness made it all the harder.

"No harm done," Christina said, doing her best to look unperturbed. Being around a young family including three rambunctious teens and near teens was a challenge for her as well. She's been honestly amazed at how well their father seemed to handle it all. Then, hoping to help the boy feel a little less uneasy she said, "Would you please tell your father and General O'Neill dinner is almost ready?"

"Sure," Justin replied, happy to have something useful to do right about now. In the time honored tradition of young boys his age, he set out to make his announcement with the least possible expenditure of energy.

"General Jack, Dad," he called at full voice, "Christina says dinner's ready."

"Okay, thanks for the bulletin," Bobby said walking over to his son and ruffling his hair.

OoOoOo

Dinner was a casual picnic on the front lawn. Jack and Christina were the family's only guests. It was the first time Christina had seen Jack interacting with all the kids and was amazed at how natural he was with all of them. Even Denise, who after three months was still downright cold to her, seemed to adore Jack O'Neill, calling him Uncle Jack and hanging on his every word. And of course, Jack ate it up and played the role of the entertaining, joking favorite uncle.

The food was as good as promised and by the time everyone was served the loud cacophony of voices that had been the Cramer household had settled down. Denise sat between her father and Uncle Jack, enjoying their attention and doing her best to avoid eye contact with Christina. She was less than pleased when Christina became the center of attention as Jack enquired about Charlie.

"How's he's doing, Christina?" Jack asked.

"Not bad, given all he's been through," she answered. "I hoped he'd be here with us today. He'd been doing pretty well. But the doctors say his counts are very low and he's extremely susceptible to infection right now. So bringing him out of the hospital was out of the question."

"But the transplant is scheduled?" Bobby stated, more than asked.

"It is," Christina said. "David Francis agreed to donate bone marrow. The procedure is scheduled for this Friday."

"Is it dangerous?" Jack asked, realizing how little he knew about what was going to happen.

"For the donor, not at all," Christina said, repeating what she had been told.

"And for Charlie?"

"There's a chance of rejection," she said, "in spite of the closeness of the match. And then he might still succumb to infection."

"So he won't be out of the woods for awhile," Bobby said, stating what he too had heard from the doctors.

"And he'll need a lot of care and support," Anne said in a voice of maturity beyond her years.

"Like Jason did," Justin volunteered, remembering his little brother.

"Only Charlie's going to get better," Denise said, a gentle unexpected smile gracing her face. For the first time that afternoon, she looked directly at Christina. "We'll help you know," she said.

"Thank you, Denise," Christina said, recognizing how much this meant coming from Denise. "Charlie and I appreciate that."

"Thanks, honey," Bobby said, putting his arm around his little girl.

OoOoOo

After dinner and the family's traditional Memorial Day volleyball game, Anne went out with friends while Denise and Justin helped Christina in the kitchen.

That left Bobby and Jack to clean the grill

"So, old buddy," Jack said, "looks to me like you and Christina are …"

"Are what? Spit it out, Jack," Bobby said as he took in the awkward hand gestures Jack always used when he was trying to avoid direct communication.

"Close, looks like you're … close."

"We've become good friends. My family and I, we understand what she's going through," Bobby said. "And part of me hopes there'll be something more. But right now, she's got too much on her plate. "You know, these last couple weeks, I wonder how you got so lucky with Sam."

Jack chuckled. "Lucky? I don't know about lucky. And what we've got now, it didn't happen over night."

"I forgot you two knew each, served with each other a long time before…"

"Yeah, Carter and I got to know each other pretty good before the whole marriage thing happened." Jack smiled at his friend, the smile of a truly happy man. "Marriage was just the icing on the cake and you know how much I love cake."

Now it was Bobby's turn to chuckle. Then he looked at Jack in understanding.  
"You miss her a lot, don't you?"

"Oh yeah," Jack said. "But I'm planning to do something about that real soon. Once Charlie's settled, I think I'll arrange a little visit."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Chapter 50, eeks! Getting a little long. Anyway, who's going to be first to review chapter 50? It's sort of a milestone if I do say so myself! Don't think we'll hit another milestone number with this story. Even _my_ plot bunnies aren't that numerous!! 


	51. Chapter 51 Five Years

A/N: Excuse the AU presentation later in this chapter. Just saw SGA season 4 opener, so I know my take on the story is different.

And once again, thank you everyone for your reviews and continued attention to the story.

* * *

CHAPTER 51: FIVE YEARS

"Colonel Carter wants the flags spaced more evenly," the lowly airman announced, beginning to get impatient with the decorating- impaired helpers assigned to her. "And the table decorations will need to be moved to the right."

"What's the big deal, Johnson," Bailey, the junior airman on duty retorted.

"The 'big deal' is that the President is coming for this celebration," Johnson answered impatiently. The President of the United States, remember her?"

"Why would President Montoya come out here for this?" Bailey asked, gesturing toward the somewhat gaudily decorated conference room. "Doesn't she know it's dangerous going through the Stargate?"

"Bailey, someday that mouth of yours is really going to get you into trouble," Johnson protested. "How about you do your job and let Carter and Sheppard worry about the President's safety? I bet they've got it covered."

"Got what covered, Johnson?"

"Colonel Sheppard, Sir," was Johnson's snappily delivered reply. Looking more than a little discomforted, she continued, "I was assuring Airman Bailey that adequate security will be in place for the President's visit."

"Is that so?" Sheppard quipped.

OoOoOo

It was the 4th of July on Earth, and in the United States at least, a day of special significance. Sam missed home afresh as she realized yet another holiday was passing her by.

Still, in many ways, today would be a holiday on Atlantis as well. Sam had the dubious pleasure of being in command for Atlantis' fifth anniversary. And officials were coming from Earth to mark the occasion, officials including President Lucida Montoya.

It didn't seem possible. Five years ago today, the first expedition had arrived at Atlantis to find an extensive Ancient city mysteriously submerged in an alien sea. Sam had to admit, she'd missed out on much of the excitement of that original exploration. Sandwiched as it was between the battle over Antarctica, her own capture by Fifth and the administrative changes at the SGC, she'd been more than a bit distracted. Those were the days Jack was struggling to adapt in his role as SGC leader, buried under paperwork, bureaucratic responsibilities and yes, decorating nightmares.

Her husband understood her current frustration. In fact she'd dumped it on him last night and he'd listened patiently as their weekly intergalactic conversation morphed into a support group for two. _He's so patient with me_, she thought. Momentarily she forgot he simply loved looking at her and listening to her voice, _whatever_ she was saying.

The past few days on Atlantis had been challenging. Disagreements between the senior staff, Rodney's less than stellar attempts to recharge the ZPMs (she couldn't blame him for trying) and preparation for the dignitaries arriving later today immediately came to mind. Prepping the place for this shindig was not Sam's idea of a good time or a particularly good use of her abilities. While she felt she had a bit more domestic flair than Jack, it wasn't by much. If it were up to her, all the flags, streamers and balloons would be in the trash. She didn't have time for it, let alone orchestrating it. But like at the SGC, some things just had to be done.

Then there was the fact she was hosting none other than President Montoya. Granted she respected the woman and had learned over the last few months the feeling was mutual. Still, she _was_ the President and Sam would be responsible for her safety. General Hammond was coming as well, along with Richard Woolsey and two specially selected secret service agents. Anyway, it would all be over soon.

"Colonel," Teyla called from the control room, "General Hammond is on the line for you."

"Thank you, Teyla," Sam replied, grateful it would be a friendly call. It took only a moment for Sam to make her way to the monitor in her office.

"General, I'm looking forward to seeing you here on Atlantis," Sam said.

Hammond nodded and smiled. "The feeling is mutual, Colonel," he said with pride and a hidden something she couldn't quite decipher. "Sam, I'm calling to let you know we're bringing another guest with us. Dr. Weir will be coming for the anniversary."

"She's able to make the trip?"

"Yes, her recuperation has gone better than expected. She's looking forward to seeing her people again."

"Yes, Sir. I'm sure they'll be glad to see her as well."

"And Sam ..."

"I'm bringing a surprise for you as well."

OoOoOo

"Are you ready, O'Neill?"

"Ah… I guess… How do I look, T.?"

"You look well, O'Neill," the Jaffa answered in his trademark tone.

"Hey, you know what I mean. This jacket, is it too tight?" Jack asked, tugging at his jacket and readjusting his tie. "Do you think I've gained weight?"

With that, a more accomplished fashion consultant entered what could now be described as the SGC dressing room.

"What are you doing, Jack?" Daniel asked, watching his old friend literally primping in front of the seldom used mirror in the locker room.

"What's it look like I'm doing, Daniel?"

"Trying to look ridiculous?"

Jack stopped his nervous fiddling long enough to glare at Daniel.

"Is there anything wrong with looking good, for crying out loud?"

"Nope," Daniel smirked. Of course he knew exactly why his good friend had suddenly become so conscious of his appearance. "But they call it a dress uniform for a reason. It's for dress and it's a uniform. What's the problem?"

"Fine, you're no help," Jack said with a disgusted look. "Come on you two, walk me to the gate. Should I bring a gift? "

Daniel couldn't suppress a chuckle. "You _are_ the gift, Jack."

TBC

* * *

A/N: I know its short, but I wanted to post and hope it's entertaining.

More to come in a couple days or sooner. I'll bet you can guess what's coming!!


	52. Chapter 52 The Best Surprise

"And Sam ..." General Hammond began. "I'm bringing a surprise for you as well."

* * *

CHAPTER 52: THE BEST SURPRISE

A surprise? _What now?_ Sam thought. Wasn't Weir enough of a surprise? Though Sam sincerely rejoiced in Elizabeth's surprisingly fast recovery, there was a part of her that dreaded having her predecessor return right now, even for a visit.

Samantha Carter O'Neill pulled herself up sharply at the thought. Truth was she'd been gratified to see the way her command was accepted by the Atlantis military contingent, scientific community and even their alien guests. So it surprised (there was that word again) her she could still feel so threatened. Oh well, she was human after all. What if, seeing their old friend and leader again, everyone decided the Carter command was a bad idea whose time was up?

_Okay, Carter, snap out of it_, Sam ordered herself. _Enough is enough_. Everything is as it should be. You've got enough to do without being so paranoid. With that self imposed pep talk, Sam began to change into her dress uniform, making final preparations for President Montoya's visit.

She had to hand it to Lucida Montoya. A consummate politician, the woman was clearly an adventurer as well. It wasn't every high ranking official who would step through the Stargate. But this woman wasn't your run of the mill politician. She was used to taking risks and standing up for her beliefs, qualities Sam admired.

As she tugged her uniform jacket into place she sighed deeply. There were so many people coming. What difference would one more have made? When first informed of plans for the anniversary, she'd asked Jack if he couldn't finagle an official invitation. She'd been devastated when he eventually replied "no can do". She assumed he was as disappointed as she; he'd told her the President was unable to spare him at the time. Sam had little choice but to accept that as fact.

Maybe it was just as well, she told herself. If Jack came along with the political delegation, well, she couldn't predict how she'd react. How could she be expected to attend to the President and her official responsibilities with Jack striding though the Gate, looking his unbearably handsome self? For all she knew, the otherwise well mannered, by the book leader of Atlantis would ignore all other guests, scream her husband's name and run into his arms in full view of everyone. That simply wouldn't do! Yes, it was better he wasn't coming right now.

OoOoOo

"Send the signal, Lieutenant," Sam ordered.

The gate sprung to life, an effect Sam would never tire of seeing.

First through was a contingent of SGC Marines followed by the Secret Service agents, bodyguards for President Montoya. Directly behind them came Hammond, Woolsey and the President herself. Only a step off the pace was Dr. Weir, immediately greeted by a less than restrained round of applause in the control room. Sam walked over to greet President Montoya and Dr. Weir in turn. As she reached out her hand, she realized another visitor had burst through the event horizon, a second male figure in dress blues. She looked up out of curiosity, and her eyes froze to the spot.

For a moment, Sam Carter O'Neill forgot all about General Hammond, Dr. Weir and even the President. Her mouth fell open slightly and her eyes widened as if to contain their surprise. She had all she could do to suppress the little sound struggling to find its way from her mouth. As always, the calm, light hearted stride of the last man through the gate calmed her enough to continue with her current duties. That, along with the gesture of silence well known from their combat days, gave her wild side pause. But the twinkle in his eye nearly undid it all.

Jack O'Neill battled to maintain his decorum as well. As soon as he caught sight of his wife, all he wanted was to take her in his arms. Everyone else be damned. But once again, duty and appearances came first. He'd never embarrass Sam like that. This was an important moment in her command, more than a visit from her husband. There would be time for them, he'd seen to that, with a little help from President Montoya of course.

Still, the next few minutes were unending for both of them. Official greetings could take forever. Daniel sprang to mind for Sam. She wished he was here to take over; he was so appropriate and gracious in every diplomatic situation. She'd gladly switch places with him at this moment. But for now, she did her best.

Managing to tear her eyes away from Jack, Sam greeted President Montoya warmly.

"Welcome to Atlantis, Madame President."

"Thank you, Colonel," Montoya replied. "That was quite a trip. Nothing like it, I'd say."

"Nothing even comes close, Ma'am," Sam replied with a smile. Sam proceeded to introduce her senior staff, beginning with Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. All the while she realized Jack was standing slightly behind her, greeting others in the reception area.

Finally, Sam was able to turn to her husband. Still conscious of all eyes upon them, she greeted him with restrained enthusiasm.

"I can't believe you're here," she said softly. For a moment her voice and her eyes spoke only to Jack. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry; in point of fact, she knew Colonel Carter, Commander of Atlantis was allowed neither.

"Hello yourself, Sam," Jack said with a crooked smile, reaching smoothly to grasp her hand if only momentarily.

"I'm so happy," she whispered. Then she broke their moment and turned back to the President and her contingent. "Madame President, Colonel Sheppard and I would be honored to lead you and your staff on a tour of Atlantis. The formal anniversary ceremony won't begin for another hour."

President Montoya slyly eyed her Secret Service agents then returned her attention to Colonel Carter.

"If it's all the same, Colonel, I'd prefer to settle in for a few moments before the ceremony. I'm afraid I'm not the caliber of explorer you clearly are," she said. "I'd very much like to see the city after the ceremony if that is possible."

"Of course, I'll see you to a guest area."

"That won't be necessary, Colonel," was the response. "I'm sure Dr. McKay would be happy to steer me in the right direction."

Though taken by surprise, McKay had little choice but to respond affirmatively.

"It would be an honor," Rodney said with uncommon graciousness.

"Then we'll meet in the conference room at 1400 hours," Sam said.

"Until then, Colonel," the President replied.

OoOoOo

Elizabeth Weir, recently liberated from the use of any assistive devices, was occupied for the next hour catching up with her friends and colleagues. George Hammond began to make supervisory visits to a few of the more high profile stations on the base. And the security guards, well they did their best to secure whatever needed securing.

This left Jack and Sam a few moments to themselves.

"Jack, come with me, I have to …," Sam said, realizing at least three more things she could see to before the ceremony.

"You don't have to do anything," he said, taking her arm gently and steering her to a small room off the reception area, "except visit with me."

As soon as they were inside, Jack deftly closed and locked the door.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming," Sam said, her eyes sparkling.

"Hey, Montoya dragged me out of Washington with her yesterday. It was a surprise for me, too," Jack said. "The best surprise..."

"The best surprise," Sam echoed.

"Come 'ere," he said, gathering her into his arms.

Sam went more than willingly into her husband's waiting arms. It's all she wanted, after all. He held her so tightly, she thought for a moment they'd melt into each other on that very spot. Then she realized she was holding him just as tightly. And she was crying.

Jack didn't say a word. He stroked her hair, nuzzled her neck and listened to her softly breathe his name.

"Jack …"

They held each other, breathed each other in, and relaxed into the other's presence. Jack felt his own tears answering Sam's. It had been so long, almost four months since they'd been together, able to touch, to be touched. He was never going to let go.

Moments later, Jack pulled back far enough to see her face.

"Let me look at you … you are so beautiful," he said, his lips only inches from hers.

Sam breathed deeply, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "You're beautiful too."

Jack smirked. "No one's ever accused me of being beautiful."

"Then I suppose I'll have to be the first," she said. Before Jack could think of a come back, his wife had captured his lips with her own. And the kiss was all they'd imagined it would be … and more.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all readers and reviewers. Thanks especially this time to smithcrafter who reminded me of what I'd probably do were I in Sam's place during this scene, namely, run to Jack as soon as he came through the Gate. Well since I couldn't see Sam doing that in her commander role, I used it as her fantasy. Thanks for the idea!! 


	53. Chapter 53 Second Honeymoon

A/N Major FLUFF alert for most of this chapter. It wasn't the original plan but I managed to loose the first draft of this the other night. Ouch! Hope you like this one.

_OoOoOo_

_Last time: "Then I suppose I'll have to be the first," she said. Before Jack could think of a come back, his wife had captured his lips with her own. And the kiss was all they'd imagined it would be … and more._

CHAPTER 53: SECOND HONEYMOON

The formal anniversary event lasted little over an hour. It was followed by a less formal reception offering base personnel the opportunity to mingle with each other and the visiting dignitaries. Sam had to admit, the celebration had been a good idea. Everyone liked to feel appreciated and her crew was no exception. This gathering went a long way toward expressing the sincere admiration of the President and the highest levels of the Air Force for the often superhuman efforts of those serving on Atlantis.

Sam found it difficult to attend to the speeches; her mind kept drifting to the man seated on her right. Fortunately, as commander of the base, she'd rated a seat on the dais with the VIP guests. Besides, she kept reminding herself, they were married; it wasn't a secret even if it were the first time her staff saw them together since the big event.

But old habits died hard. So used to camouflaging the looks, the touches, the special feelings she felt, even now when it was all completely above board, Sam found herself self conscious. Self conscious or not, it was hard to focus on the words spoken by the President of the United States. Yes she did hear words of praise and encouragement for the accomplishments of the base, but her brain kept wondering how long she'd have with Jack before he returned to Earth.

She needn't have worried.

By 1700 hours the senior staff had said goodbye to the President and most of her entourage, including Elizabeth Weir. Sam found herself in front of the disengaging Stargate, standing side by side with General Jack O'Neill. And he wasn't going anywhere.

"Nice of your boss to let you stay," Sam said, turning to face Jack.

"Yep, I'd say so," Jack answered. "She's cool, for a shrub. What do you say we go somewhere a little more private, Colonel?"

"I think that could be arranged," she answered.

OoOoOo

They were almost to the front door of the command tower complex before they realized they were still in their dress blues. Eager as they were to leave the confines of the Gate Room and the prying eyes therein, walking in the sand with dress shoes was no one's idea of a good time. What's more it was hard to enjoy a bracing ocean breeze when hemmed in by a formal uniform.

"It's only another five minutes to my quarters, Jack. We'd be much more comfortable walking if we changed," Sam suggested, wanting desperately to ditch her regulation heels for a pair of practical walking shoes.

"Not a problem."

"Did you bring a bag?"

"Yeahsureyabetcha," Jack said with a flourish.

"Really? You can stay for awhile?"

"You didn't think you were getting rid of me that easily, did you?"

Sam looked at him expectantly, waiting for more information.

"President Montoya needs an in-depth security inspection of the base. It's for her unofficial State of the Union report, you know, the one you won't see on network TV. As Head of Homeworld Security, I got the job. She figures it should take about a week."

"Holy Hannah!" Sam exclaimed.

"Too long?" Jack asked.

"Oh no, not by a long shot," Sam clarified. She smiled contentedly and continued to lead the way to her private quarters.

Before they knew it, they'd arrived at Sam's apartment. Jack couldn't help his next comments.

"Don't think they'll talk?" Jack asked teasingly as they stepped through the door of the Sam's suite.

"What?" Sam queried, not sure for a minute where he was going with this.

"You know, strange man, your room, all that stuff," he clarified.

"What do they have to talk about? We're legal, no frat regs to break anymore," Sam said. "If anyone's talking, it's because they're happy for us."

"Or jealous," Jack suggested. "And they'd have good reason to be jealous, wouldn't they?"

"Yes they would," Sam agreed, smiling softly.

"Okay, now that's settled, we can get on with things," Jack said.

The commander's quarters on Atlantis base weren't luxurious, but by SGC standards, they came close. The spacious suite consisted of a combined sitting area/office space, a small kitchenette, a bath with full shower and a large bedroom. Though Sam hadn't had or taken the time to decorate it to her liking, she had managed to place personal items throughout the area, giving Jack the sense that it was truly his wife's place.

This was Jack's first view of the area where Sam spent her private time. When Weir had been in charge, there'd been no call for him to come to these rooms. And when he'd come to bring Sam back for court martial, well the opportunity hadn't presented itself. Suffice it to say, he was duly impressed.

"Wow, some digs, Sam!" Jack exclaimed. "Wonder how the Ancients would have put up a General?"

"Well, General, we do have some fairly impressive VIP quarters if you want to give them a try," Sam offered.

'No, I'm going staying right here. Whatever's good enough for the woman in charge is good enough for me," he said. "The commander won't be getting rid of me anytime soon."

"Good," Sam said simply, continuing to walk towards her bedroom intent on getting into something more comfortable. Jack followed her into the bedroom. Without warning Sam turned to face him. He could swear she was glowing.

"Now why would the commander want to get rid of you when she's finally got you right where she wants you?" Sam quipped.

"And where would that be, Mrs. O'Neill?"

"In my bedroom, where else?' Sam answered, grinning widely and shutting the door behind them.

OoOoOo

The evening hadn't exactly gone as planned. Not that Jack minded, no he didn't mind at all. Ending up in bed with Sam, that was more than okay, whenever it happened. They'd just reversed the order of things a bit. He'd planned a romantic walk by the ocean first, but for Sam … well, he'd be flexible.

By the time they woke, the Atlantis suns had set. It was dark, at least as dark as it could get with the lights of the city and the three moons which regularly rose by midnight. And a few minutes past midnight, Jack and Sam found themselves outdoors. Dressed in loose fitting fatigues and sandals, they walked hand-in-hand along the all too perfect beach front surrounding the borders of this incredible Ancient city.

Ever since Sam had come to this place, only days after Atlantis found its new home, smack dab in the middle of yet another ocean on yet another planet, she'd marveled at the natural beauty outside the central core of buildings. At times she could almost forget she was living on a floating city. Instead she'd picture an island, preferably deserted except for her and Jack. And now here she was, living her fantasy.

"I can't believe we're doing this," Sam said.

"Nice though, huh" Jack replied, thinking himself the master of understatement.

"Very," Sam answered simply. "I'm surprised Rodney hasn't managed to page me yet, is all."

"See now, the mention of that man's name comes dangerously close to ruining the mood," Jack said sadly.

"Is it too late to take it back?" Sam asked with a giggle.

"Nope, caught it in the nick of time, I'd say."

"Good, cause I've got high hopes for tonight."

"Me too," Jack agreed, holding her hand and continuing to walk.

"It's so beautiful here," Sam said after a moment. "If you were with me like this all the time I think I could be happy in the Pegasus Galaxy forever."

"But since I'm not…"

"Since you're not, I've decided to come home when my tour is up, for good."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Hope you liked it. Please excuse any Atlantis inaccuracies. Other characters return in next chapters --- after a bit more Sam and Jack second honeymoon that is. 


	54. Chapter 54 Honeymoon Conversations

"_Since you're not, I've decided to come home when my tour is up, for good."_

* * *

HONEYMOON CONVERSATIONS. 

"You're not re-upping?"

"No, I've decided I want to be on the same planet as my husband," Sam said matter-of-factly. "Hammond will understand."

"I'm not sure I understand," Jack said without thinking.

"What's not to understand?" Sam asked. "I want to come home to stay when my tour is over." Jack couldn't miss the look of puzzlement on his wife's face. And she wasn't the only one.

Jack was dumbfounded. That didn't happen often. He knew this assignment meant a great deal to Sam. In many ways it was the culmination of everything she'd worked for over the past few years. Her leadership skills recognized, daily opportunities for scientific advancement and a challenging command, it had it all. Sure the recall had soured things a bit, but she'd come back with a vengeance and more than proved herself.

He didn't want Sam to give it all up for him. He wasn't worth it.

"Is it because of me?" Jack asked earnestly.

She knew what he was thinking. It was that old familiar dance they'd done day after day during those long years of denial. If they got together, who would retire, who would exchange their career for a chance at happiness with the person they loved? It wasn't so different now, except they could talk about it. The relationship was out in the open so they ought to be able to talk about it.

"It's because of you _and_ me," Sam finally answered. "I want there to be a 'you and me' …an 'us'. When I'm alone here I miss that, more than I thought I would."

Jack regarded her thoughtfully. He certainly understood the loneliness. Just when they'd finally come together, they'd been ripped apart again, not to other ends of the continent, but across galaxies, for crying out loud. But leaving an exciting, challenging command, a post others dreamed of, is that what she really wanted?

"You think it's a bad idea, don't you?" she asked. Secretly, the voice of insecurity whispered. _Maybe he doesn't want me on the same planet What if he wants his freedom? _Though she quickly shook off what she realized were spurious, foolish thoughts, they were bound to nag her throughout the decision process, especially when her husband played devil's advocate.

By now, the two had stopped walking, sitting down in the warm sand, facing each other. Jack studied her face some more, then reached out and took her hands in his.

"I think it's an idea that needs more thought," he said. "Careful thought. You've worked a long time for this. If you hand it back, you might not get another chance."

"I know."

"As much as I want you with me, Sam, I want you happy more."

Sam looked at Jack steadily, seeing nothing but sincere concern in his eyes. Then she looked away, realizing all of a sudden she was blinking back tears. Doing her best to remain calm and in control, she focused on the expanse of ocean before her. Here they were on a totally alien world, struggling to understand each other and work out their personal lives. Why did it have to be so complicated? _Maybe it didn't._

"Can you trust me to know what will make me happy?" Sam asked.

"I trust you, Sam," Jack answered. "I trust you with my life."

"Then trust me with my own," she said, once more fixing him with a loving, but deadly serious, gaze.

Jack took a deep breath and reached out for her. Scooting over to sit side by side she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. Wrapping his arm around her, Jack closed his eyes momentarily. "Promise me you'll think it through before you make a final decision."

"How about we talk it through some more over the next few days?" Sam asked. "Will that do?"

"Yeah, it will."

OoOoOo

It was 0200 in the Atlantis Gate Room. Without warning, Rodney came bounding in, brimming with enthusiasm. Teyla and Ronon were in the vicinity, having just returned from a straightforward off-world mission.

"Where is she?"

"Where is who, Rodney?" Teyla enquired in her usual calm tone.

"Colonel Carter, of course. She needs to see this," he insisted, his agitation apparent.

"What does she need to see, Rodney?" John Sheppard asked, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

"My Zed PM research, if you must know," Rodney answered, looking at Sheppard as if he had two heads.

"And she needs to see it at two in the morning, because?"

"Because she's the only one who understands it," Rodney sneered.

"She can understand it in the morning, right?" Sheppard clarified.

"Yeah, but …"

"No buts, Rodney. Tomorrow."

OoOoOo

Jack and Sam sat wrapped in each other's arms for sometime, simply enjoying being together, staring out at the water. Sam broke the silence.

"How is everyone?"

"Everyone?"

"Yeah, everyone. In case you hadn't noticed I've been out of the loop lately," Sam said with a halfhearted chuckle. "What about Charlie."

"He had the transplant last week," Jack said. "He'll be in the hospital at least another two weeks, but he's doing well, thanks to David Francis."

"I'm glad. Good thing Francis' son didn't inherit his miserable father's selfishness."

"David's a good guy, embarrassed by his father, I think," Jack said. "Even talks about little Charlie as his brother."

"That's great," Sam said. "So everything's downhill from here right?"

"From what I understand there's still a lot to be concerned about," Jack said. "Possibility of infection, ongoing medications to prevent rejection, lack of appetite, need for special feedings, even a nurse, or training for Christina."

"How's she doing with all that?" Sam asked. "Sounds like a lot."

"It is," Jack said. "She's overwhelmed, but Bobby says she's dealing."

"Something's going on between those two, isn't it?" Sam asked with a lilt in her voice. "Does this mean I can stop worrying about someone fishing for my husband?"

"Never had to worry about that," Jack said, turning to kiss her gently. "I'm all yours, Sam. Have been for a long time."

"I know," she said, realizing in her heart she had nothing to fear on that front. "Still, Christina was desperate there for awhile."

"She knows the score. Besides, I'm thinking you're right. There's more going on between her and Bobby than friendship."

"I'm glad. For both of them," Sam said.

"Yeah, I think so too. Still it won't be easy."

"It never is, is it?"

OoOoOo

On Earth, 0300 hours and Christina Gilmore sat silently by Bobby Cramer, her head on his shoulder. Fighting off the pull of sleep, the exhausted young grandmother clung to her friend, drawing on his strength to get her through yet another night by Charlie's bedside. Wrapped in isolation gowns and wearing miserably uncomfortable face masks, the two worried caretakers reluctantly complied with the reverse isolation rules enforced for Charlie's safety. While the bone marrow transplant had thus far been a success, they were in the middle of a tortuous waiting period. They were waiting to see whether the new marrow would take its rightful place and begin to produce healthy blood cells. In the meantime, the small child was protected from every imaginable pathogen by layers upon layers of isolation protocol.

For the moment, Charlie slept soundly. Less than thirty minutes ago, the tiny boy had been crying as loudly as his weakened little self could, bewailing the strange looking masked faces of the people who held him. From his perspective, this was all surreal. Though the voice of his grandmother was a recognizable constant, there was no way to explain to the sick child, still less than one year of age, what was really going on. Understandably his fear was intense. Christina for one was relieved whenever Charlie would fall off to sleep; his waking misery and fear tore at her heart.

Bobby Cramer had become her rock. When she began to give up, sobbing uncontrollably, he would talk about the need to hold out for the miracle, the cure the doctors were saying was only weeks away. Holding on till that time, the day they could take Charlie home, away from this completely sterile, unreal hospital environment, seemed impossible at times. But Bobby reminded her it was possible and right around the corner, if she'd only wait. And together, along with Bobby's oldest daughter and David Francis, they took turns helping Charlie through the waiting as well.

OoOoOo

As the suns came up, Sam stirred slightly in Jack's arms. She could tell from the rhythm of his breathing he was already awake. Not wanting to break the spell, she remained silent. Her open eyes glimpsed the brightening sky, appreciating anew the beauty of this place. The beach had made a soft bed beneath them, the sand cool and comforting. At the same time all of her senses drank in the marvelous sensations of the man who was so much a part of her mind and heart.

"Morning," he whispered in her ear.

"Morning yourself," she answered. "Beautiful isn't it?"

"Yes, you are," Jack replied, turning her sentiment on its ear.

That comment was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a kiss.

"Weir was impressed," Jack observed, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Hmm?" Sam asked, struggling to catch up at this early morning hour.

"With you, she was impressed with you, how you've handled the command."

"You think so?"

"Absolutely. Why shouldn't she be?"

"I don't know, guess I'm overthinking again."

"You do that," he observed, his voice full of affection.

Sam giggled, ducking her head under his arm for a moment.

"Actually I was wondering what she really thought of the changes I've made, how her team functions now," Sam admitted.

"_Your_ team now," Jack corrected.

"True."

"Sam, listen to me. Elizabeth made it clear in her remarks how much she admired your leadership. If I remember correctly, she said she was grateful for the way you've watched out for the people she left behind. Besides I thought you two talked at the reception."

"We did. And she was very gracious."

"But?

"But she misses it, Atlantis," Sam said. "I can tell she misses it."

"See, that's what I think would happen to you."

"Maybe …"

TBC

* * *

A/N: I'd planned to wait a little longer to post this, you know, spread the chapters out a little. But it's done and I'd really like to hear reactions before fleshing out the next few chapters. 

I'd greatly appreciate feedback. What do you think of the Jack/Sam scenes? On target or too much??

Please review.


	55. Chapter 55 Back to Abnormal

"_But she misses it, Atlantis," Sam said. "I can tell she misses it." _

"_See, that's what I think would happen to you."_

"_Maybe …"_

* * *

CHAPTER 55: BACK TO ABNORMAL

One week later …

Samantha Carter O'Neill sat quietly, enjoying the undisturbed peace of her office sanctuary. The past week with Jack had been wonderful. Fortunately, the base ran smoothly during that time, somehow safe from Replicator, Genii, Wraith or any other variety of enemy attack. If she wasn't careful, the head of Homeworld Security would think she wasn't actually working after all.

As it was, he'd spent a good part of this visit showing her how impressed he was with her professional efforts. As always, that felt good. She'd valued his opinion since the moment they'd met in the SGC briefing room, twelve long years ago. Jack was still her ideal of a professional soldier, especially when it came to common sense, courage under fire and battle strategy. His approval meant the world to her. Jack O'Neill knew her well, sometimes better than she knew herself. So when he questioned her decision to leave Atlantis at the end of her current tour, she was taken aback to say the least.

He loved her, of that Sam had no doubt. It wasn't that he wanted her distant so he could have his freedom. He loved her and communicated those feelings loud and clear once more during the last six days, ten hours and fifteen minutes. One sentence said it all as far as he was concerned. "If I knew you'd be happy, I'd pack you up myself, today." And he would, laughing and celebrating as if there were no tomorrow. But more than the pleasure and solace of her company, he wanted her honest to goodness happiness and fulfillment. That was the catch. At that moment, Sam realized anew what a fortunate woman she was. She was married to a man who willingly placed her fulfillment before his own happiness. That was love, of that much she was certain.

As Jack left, he promised to trust in her decision, however it might play out. Now she had only to decide. Part of her hoped he'd say "great" when he heard what she wanted to do and everything would be settled. But his questions had set her thinking again. Would it be enough for her to be General Jack O'Neill's wife, a full bird Colonel assigned to an Earth bound command, probably somewhere in Washington? Or was he right? Would she eventually start to resent him, even blame him for derailing her career? Right now, she couldn't imagine ever resenting Jack, but anything was possible. Now if they had a child, so much would be different. To Sam's way of thinking, it would stand to reason she'd stay home, at least a little while and start to raise a family with Jack. Beyond a shadow of a doubt she knew that's what she wanted. But that little detail, getting pregnant, was unlikely to happen.

Feeling herself begin to fall down the dark hole of sadness she'd fought against for months, Sam was relieved to hear a voice other than her own.

"He's gone, isn't he?"

Sam looked up from the pile of paperwork on her desk to see Teyla standing in the doorway.

"Yes, General O'Neill shipped out with the IOA representatives about an hour ago," Sam said, her voice noticeably devoid of emotion. "Come in, Teyla."

The Athosian woman took a seat by Sam's desk and studied her commanding officer closely. Sam's eyes were puffy, she'd obviously been crying. Unfortunately, this brilliant woman insisted on keeping her feelings close to her, reluctant to share with anyone on base. She needed a friend and Teyla intended to volunteer her services.

"It was a pleasure to spend some time with General O'Neill," Teyla said. "He is a very pleasant man."

"That he is," Sam said simply.

"Everyone seemed to appreciate his visit, except perhaps Dr. McKay," Teyla went on to observe. "Rodney did not seem comfortable with General O'Neill."

Teyla's words reminded Sam how her husband, a two star General, had managed to spend time with many of the military personnel and staff on the base during his visit. He'd shared meals and recreation time with them, as well as asking more formal questions about their work as part of the security assignment. He was good with people in spite of himself. And as always his slightly off kilter humor was infectious.

"People in Jack's command have always felt a good deal of loyalty towards him. He realizes it's important to get to know the men and women he's responsible for," Sam said, remembering the qualities of leadership she'd always admired. "As for Rodney's reaction…"

"Yes, what did happen?" Teyla asked. "Dr. McKay was strangely subdued this morning."

"If you must know, Rodney came to my quarters last night with something he considered an emergency. Seems he was so excited he didn't think to call first. Anyway, I was sleeping when he arrived, so Jack decided to get the door and not wake me. The rest as they say is history."

In spite of herself, Sam began to chuckle as she recalled Jack's imitation of Rodney's face when he'd come to the door last night. When Teyla started to laugh as well, Sam knew her companion was imagining the same thing.

After a moment of shared laughter at Dr. McKay's expense, the conversation turned more serious.

"I can see General O'Neill loves you a great deal," Teyla observed haltingly, hoping Sam would find her way clear to speak about her own feelings.

Taken off guard, Sam blushed. Inhaling deeply, she looked up at Teyla.

"And I feel the same way," she replied quietly.

It wasn't the sentiment that surprised Teyla, but the fact it had crossed Sam's lips in her presence. Teyla's natural empathy had been heightened by her pregnancy. That being said, she was aware not only of Sam's strong love for her husband, but the turmoil now in her heart.

"I know," Teyla said gently. "So it is right that you miss him now."

"Three more months, Teyla," Sam said. "If everything goes according to plan, I won't see Jack face-to-face for three more months."

"Yours is a difficult path, Colonel," the now noticeably pregnant woman observed.

Sam looked up at Teyla thoughtfully, "Please call me Sam. I need someone to call me Sam, not Colonel," she said with feeling. "And some days the path is more difficult than others."

"You want to go home, do you not?" Teyla stated, more than asked.

Sam's surprise at the other woman's statement was palpable, and showed on her face. "How did…" she began. Then she remembered Teyla's uncanny sensitivity and that she probably wasn't all that difficult to read. "Yes, I want to be with him. I think that's where I belong now. But will it be enough?"

"It is a question no woman can answer for another, Sam," Teyla said. "I believe you will come to the right answer for you as time goes on."

"I wish I were as sure of it as you are," Sam stated. "And what about you Teyla, what are your plans these days?"

"That is part of the reason I stopped by this afternoon," the Athosian woman replied. "It is time for me to return to Athos. As I mentioned two months ago, at a certain point in their pregnancies, all Athosian women who live off-world are expected to return to their homeland. My pregnancy is now six months along. It is time to travel home."

To Sam's eyes, it was clear Teyla was far from happy at the prospect of returning to Athos. It was understandable as most of her friends were now on Atlantis.

"But you haven't lived on Athos for nearly five years," Sam said. "Certainly an exception could be made."

Teyla, still less then enthusiastic about carrying the pregnancy to term hung her head momentarily. "It is expected. Don't worry; it is not as bad as you think. I still have friends and even distant relatives on Athos," she said. "And I am hoping my friends from Atlantis may visit from time to time."

"That they will," Sam assured her. "Count on it."

OoOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Milky Way Galaxy, Jack was greeted by old friends when he returned through the Stargate.

Daniel had returned from his own off-world dig only yesterday. Teal'c had been called away on a personal emergency earlier that week, only to return that very morning. After Jack's initial debrief with General Landry and the ever present Richard Woolsey, he joined his fellow SG1 alums in the commissary.

"I see the food hasn't improved much since I've been gone," Jack quipped. "Then of course I'm here for the company, not the food."

"How is she, Jack?" Daniel asked, moments after they'd sat down. Both he and Teal'c had been disappointed to find their schedules ruled out a trip to Atlantis for the anniversary.

"She's a great commander, a strong leader," Jack said, missing the point as usual.

"How is Sam?" Daniel clarified. It would never change. Jack would always try to avoid the feeling aspect of any conversation.

"Confused?" Jack said, perplexed himself. "I don't know, Daniel. She says she wants to come home."

"Well she has leave coming up at the six month mark, right?" Daniel observed.

"More than that, she has a decision to make," Jack said. "It's the end of her tour."

"You mean she may come home permanently," Daniel stated. "That's great. You must be thrilled. You are, aren't you," the younger man questioned, stymied by the strange look on his friend's face.

"She'd be giving up a lot if she came home at this point," Jack said, voicing his concern. "Her career's taking off. I don't want her to do something she'll regret."

Teal'c sat quietly, munching through a mound of grapes and other assorted fruit piled haphazardly on his tray. He listened intently as Daniel continued to respond to Jack.

"Call me crazy Jack, but I can't imagine Sam thinking that coming home to you would be a mistake," Daniel said.

Jack shrugged, "She'd never admit it, even if it was. I want her to be happy, Daniel."

By now Teal'c had heard enough.

"O'Neill, I believe Samantha knows her own mind," he said. "I believed also that you had more faith in her."

Teal'c's insight never ceased to amaze Jack. A bona fide warrior, whose brawn spoke volumes and often made it unnecessary to speak aloud, the Jaffa leader had carefully honed a tempered understanding of human nature over the past few years. His insight into one stubborn Irishman was second to none. And when he spoke, Jack listened.

"Like Daniel Jackson, I had wanted to accompany you to Atlantis last week. Only an hour before your departure, I received a message from Ishta, requesting my immediate presence. Her tone was urgent and this concerned me greatly. As you know, Ishta is a fiercely independent woman, a warrior of great skill and cunning. Yet the woman I found upon my return to her home planet was … different."

"You did tell us she's expecting, Teal'c," Jack said, wondering where his friend was going with this."

"Indeed, she is," Teal'c conceded, with a calm smile and his usual nod of the head. "And yet, I believe the changes I am seeing are more than her pregnancy. It has been my observation that Jaffa women begin to change their priorities at a certain point in their lives."

Teal'c definitely had both Daniel and Jack's attention now. Their good friend was going to explain the mystery of the opposite sex. This they had to hear.

"Go on …" Daniel encouraged.

"It is quite self-evident, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said with an air of quiet authority. "It is well known among our people that the most fierce warrior women often abandon their single minded pursuit of conquest and adventure in order to pursue what you would refer to as 'a relationship'."

"So, what, did Ishta suddenly go all soft and mushy on you?" Jack asked, not exactly able to picture Teal'c's warrior princess without a weapon, let alone "pursuing a relationship".

For the briefest moment, Teal'c appeared confused. Then he replied, "I had never thought of Ishta in such a manner. It is not possible. In fact, what happened when I arrived was quite the opposite."

"Don't keep us in suspense, T. What happened?" Jack asked, getting impatient for the punch line.

"Ishta appeared distraught when I arrived," Teal'c said, "almost angry. She insisted we must find a way to be together, to build a home together. She was not 'soft and mushy' O'Neill. She was quite strong in her demands, and willing to forfeit much of her independence of movement to obtain this desire. I asked her whether she might regret no longer moving from place to place with her warriors after the birth of the child."

"What did she say?" Daniel asked.

"Ishta said, 'There comes a time when every woman decides what is truly at the center of her life. If a man is involved he must understand and accept her decision.'"

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks to all for your feedback on the last chapter.

Please review this one as well. I'm eager to hear what you think. I hoping it sets up some of the final action of this piece.

Just push the little button to leave your thoughts!


	56. Chapter 56 Family of Choice

_"Ishta said, 'There comes a time when every woman decides what is truly at the center of her life. If a man is involved he must understand and accept her decision.'"_

* * *

CHAPTER 56: FAMILY OF CHOICE

"Ma…ma, ma…ma," the tiny words echoed through the room. The ears that heard Charlie Gilmore's first words were duly impressed. So much so that one six-foot-two Air Force General jumped to his feet, mindless of his aching knees. Once standing, said General pulled the little guy into his arms and swung him over his head with a triumphant whoop. All of this delighted little Charlie and he squealed his approval.

"Alright, little guy!" Jack exclaimed. "Way to go!"

Without further ado, Jack made a beeline, giggling baby in arms, to find "Mama"

"He's talking!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Do you know what he said?" he asked as he found Christina quietly at work in the kitchen.

"I'll bet it was 'Mama'," Christina said with an indulgent smile, putting down the dishes of pureed baby food she was patiently filling. Coming over to take Charlie from his second favorite uncle, Christina explained, "To tell you the truth, he started yesterday and he's been practicing ever since."

"That's great!" Jack said. "He'll show those doctors a thing or two."

"Yes, it is great and yes he will," Christina agreed, looking happily at the now ten and a half month old little boy. "When the doctors said being so sick would delay his development, I was worried. Hey, when haven't I been worried lately?"

"Worry's part of being a parent," Jack said. "So don't worry." Jack looked his usual confused self as he listened to his own advice.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, starting to feed a suddenly starving little boy, Christina continued. "When they told me he should be babbling and saying small words, I was actually surprised. I didn't pay a lot of attention when Jessica was this age. Now, it's like Charlie is the biggest part of my life. I can't help but pay attention to everything he does."

Jack looked at grandmother and child for a few moments without speaking. Charlie was sitting in his high chair eagerly awaiting the next spoonful of homemade applesauce. And Christina? Well this previously spoiled, self indulgent model turned ad exec had made some big changes. Although she still looked like a model (heck she was beautiful after all), she now dressed like an everyday mother, ready for baby spit up and used to it. As far as Jack could tell she genuinely enjoyed caring for Charlie. That did his heart good.

"I'm glad," he said finally, "glad you gave it a chance."

"So am I, Jack," she answered sincerely.

OoOoOo

Charlie had been home from the hospital a full two weeks now. At the start, Christina was understandably panicked and concerned over the special precautions her little boy would need to keep him well. What with anti-rejection medications, the care of his semi-permanent intravenous site and frequent medical appointments, she worried what might go wrong. Moreover, he still needed frequent supplemental nutrition, delivered via the central line, as his body continued to recover and became able to absorb nutrients again. Sure she'd been trained by the nurses at the hospital to perform all these procedures, but being out on her own was another thing altogether. What if she did something wrong?

Somehow Christina had successfully negotiated those first few days at home. Firing the private duty nurse when she didn't perform up to expectations had left Christina to her own resources. It helped that Bobby, David Francis and Jack had all been trained in little Charlie's care as well. Helped and amazed! After all, Christina hadn't known any of these people before the fateful accident last December. But here they were, pitching in as though they were family. Charlie's three honorary uncles took turns sitting with him or coming over to support Christina when she was feeling especially insecure. And it made all the difference.

The support of her friends had increased Christina's confidence in her own abilities. Undoubtedly, Charlie picked up on his grandmother's change in attitude. He was thriving. Beginning to gain weight, tolerating more and more solid foods, intravenous supplemental feedings were needed only infrequently now, drastically reducing the need for high tech care. In fact, for all intents and purposes, Charlie was quickly becoming a regular little boy.

And as Jack saw today at his first visit in nearly a week, Charlie was making developmental gains as well. Jack and the rest of "Charlie's Angels", as Christina had christened them, rejoiced over all of his achievements. Watching the tiny child who'd been so near death feeding himself Cheerios, sitting up, cruising around furniture and saying his first words felt like a miracle. Of all the Gilmore's new friends, Jack had the least time to spend at the house, so the changes seemed all the more amazing to him.

OoOoOo

Charlie's new bone marrow produced enough cells to allow his counts to normalize within two months of the transplant. Still Christina had been cautioned to avoid bringing him into crowds where the chance of infection would be more pronounced. So when it came time for the baby's first birthday, the celebration was strictly a "family" affair. Coming as it did in early September, it was the occasion for a final summer celebration.

In attendance were Jack, David Francis and of course, the Cramers. Bobby and his three children had been frequent visitors since Charlie's return home and today was no exception. In the days since the Memorial Day picnic, where Christina was less than popular with Denise, Charlie's grandmother was now well accepted by all the Cramer children. And Bobby? Well Bobby Cramer was clearly smitten, with Charlie _and_ Christina.

In the past month, he and Christina had begun dating. Slowly, they were beginning to get to know each other. As Jack would say, it wasn't a "first barbecue" for either of them, so they understood the need to take things slowly. If it was to be successful, their relationship had to be based on more than their shared love for a once sick little boy.

"Bobby, did you pick up the cake?" Christina asked. She'd originally considered baking her grandson's first birthday cake, but had to admit that would be asking too much of her fledgling culinary skills.

"Got it right here," Bobby answered, cheerfully gesturing to the double layer chocolate cake with white icing. The cake was decorated with the image of a baby prizefighter, dubbed "Knock-out Charlie". That's how Bobby had begun to refer to the little guy. Still underweight, Charlie had managed to knock-out leukemia with a little help from his friends.

"Good," Jack said, coming up behind Christina as she took the cake from Bobby's hands. "There has to be cake for the little man's birthday."

"What do you think?" Denise said, bending down to Charlie's level and talking directly to the boy as he held onto the sofa, practicing his new walking skills. She was rewarded with a huge Charlie smile and her name, at least the best approximation the one-year-old could make.

"Neni," Charlie said, reaching up to touch her face.

"That's me, Den…ise…," the fourteen-year-old said, patiently pronouncing her own name.

Anne and Justin stood a few feet away smiling at their sister and Charlie. Denise had come a long way in the past month or so, quickly becoming one of Charlie biggest fans.

"Lunch is served in five, everyone," Jack announced.

"Yeah, don't be late," Bobby answered. "Give Jack an extra minute or two and your burger will be incinerated."

"Funny," Jack said.

"I thought so," Bobby quipped, bringing Charlie's high chair out to sit next to the picnic table.

"Hey," Jack said, taking the chance to comment before Christina and the kids came out, "you two look great together. How's it going?"

"I like her a lot, Jack," Bobby said easily. "And like you, I'm already in love with Charlie."

"Oh yeah," Jack answered.

"How 'bout you, buddy?" Bobby asked as David Francis joined them on the patio, carrying Charlie.

"I'm good," Jack said simply. "Sam's coming home in two weeks. So I couldn't be better."

Though these friends had no idea exactly how far away Sam's military assignment had taken her, they did understand the hole her absence left in Jack's life. And they rejoiced with him as he awaited her return.

"That's wonderful!" Christina said, as she joined the group. "I've been so pre-occupied with Charlie I almost forgot Sam's coming home. I'm so happy for both of you."

"And you said she's requested deployment stateside?" David asked for his own clarification.

"That she did," Jack replied. Right now, he was _very_ glad Sam had decided to come home for good.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Thanks once more for your continuing support. The reviews make my day.

We're in the home stretch: one more spat of chapters, followed by an epilogue.

Hope you enjoyed the update on Charlie and his Angels.

Please review.


	57. Chapter 57 Murphy's Law

_"And you said she's requested deployment stateside?" David asked for his own clarification. _

_"That she did," Jack replied. Right now, he was very glad Sam had decided to come home for good._

* * *

Chapter 57: MURPHY"S LAW 

"Colonel Carter," the young lieutenant called from the control room, "departure as scheduled in 15 minutes."

"Thank you, Lieutenant Hanks," Sam replied, still in her office. "Please tell Colonel Sheppard I"ll be there shortly."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Sam finalized her decision mid-August. Within the week, Hammond and the Joint Chiefs approved her resignation as commander of the Atlantis expedition. Despite his initial reluctance, Jack knew Sam had made the decision freely. She was coming home and for him, it couldn't be soon enough.

Soon after receiving her approval, Sam assembled her senior staff and announced the news. Shock and disappointment were the initial reactions of many. Still her closest colleagues, Sheppard, McKay, Ronon and Keller understood immediately. They'd seen it coming. As dedicated as Colonel Carter was to Atlantis, her heart was elsewhere. By the time September rolled around, most everyone on base realized she'd left it on Earth with her husband.

Most were happy for her. Though they'd miss the brave and brilliant leader they'd come to respect and the friend they'd come to trust, her colleagues realized she'd made the right decision. When they learned Elizabeth Weir would be returning to assume new duties on Atlantis while John Sheppard took over military command, everyone was able to rest assured competent leadership of the base would be uninterrupted.

Two weeks prior to her scheduled final departure, the goodbyes were already beginning. One goodbye Sam insisted on involved travel to a far distant alien planet. She needed to make the promised visit to her relatively new friend, Teyla.

Today's scheduled gate departure was to be Colonel Carter's first and final trip to Teyla's homeworld of Athos. The now eight-month pregnant Athosian had reluctantly returned home shortly after the fifth anniversary celebration, in accordance with the traditions of her people. And she'd cherished the promise of visits from her friends. Sam wouldn't be going alone; John Sheppard and Ronon would accompany her.

When he realized he'd have to remain behind, completing priority research, Rodney complained he never got to go anywhere. Now, at the eleventh hour, as Sam arrived in the gate room, he was still complaining.

"I don't see what it would hurt for me to come with you," he said. "I've missed Teyla too,you know."

"Rodney, I know this is hard for you," Sam reasoned as patiently as she could manage. "But there's a very good reason for you to stay behind this time."

"You mean because your husband wants the Zed PM research completed by tomorrow?" McKay asked testily.

"Rodney, I am still in charge here," Sam reminded him, chaffing at the insolence that was increasing on a daily basis. "And yes, your conclusions are due to Homeworld Security and the IOA tomorrow. You've known the deadline for sometime. You'll have other opportunities to visit Teyla." In her heart of hearts, Sam knew Rodney's attitude had deteriorated since the announcement she would be leaving Atlantis. It was his somewhat adolescent way of easing the pain of transition.

"Colonel, we're ready to get underway," John Sheppard said as he arrived to join Carter and McKay in the Gateroom.

"Yes, we are John," Sam said, fixing Rodney with a command glare he couldn't miss. "Ronon's been waiting for us at least twenty minutes," she said looking upward. "I bet he's ready to go."

Ronon, upstairs in the observation deck, said his own goodbyes to those staying behind and made his way to the gate room. He was more than ready to go.

"Dial it up, Lieutenant," Sam said. "It"s time we"re on our way."

OoOoOo

In a quiet suburb of Washington, D.C., Jack O"Neill was hard at work on a Saturday morning. Fortunately, he hadn't been called in for any emergency meetings today. As it was he had his work cut out for him.

Sam was coming home and Jack wanted to be sure it looked like home. She'd had all of two weeks at this house before leaving for Atlantis. It was long enough for Jack to realize she hated the color of bedroom. Though his wife hadn't said so in so many words, Jack could tell. And he couldn't have Sam unhappy about anything, not in her own house. So he set about repainting.

It was the least he could do. He wanted her to be at home here. Sure it would take more than a paint job, but they'd talk about that later. Maybe new furniture, hey maybe she'd want a different house, one they picked out together. He'd been in seventh heaven when Sam announced she'd make her home in Washington with him. Sure she'd have to spend time at the SGC and even at Area 51, but Sam assured him Washington would be home for as long as Jack was there.

In the middle of everything, Jack realized he was humming, probably had been since he'd crawled out of bed this morning. His thoughts about Sam were so hum-worthy!! Only a few more days and she'd be home. He could wait that long; besides she was scheduled to call tonight. He'd be waiting for that too.

OoOoOo

Teyla was thrilled. She'd been on Athos two months now. Applauded for following the cultural dictates of her people regarding the proper behavior of pregnant women, she'd been miserable since arriving here. Yes, this had been her home. Until five year ago, she'd been happy here, fulfilled even. She'd been a respected leader, a woman with a purpose. But now that purpose was on Atlantis. At this time in her life, Atlantis was where she belonged. Still she couldn't risk the censure of her people. She couldn't risk the weight of their judgment upon her.

So this fierce warrior continued to comply. She'd been warmly welcomed upon her return. But in spite of the welcome, she was relegated to virtual inactivity as she awaited the birth of her child. Until news of Sam's visit reached her, her sanity hinged on the companionship of two Athosian women who'd been good friends for as long as she could remember. Teyla spent most of her time with these two, her childhood mentor, Reigha, and the tribal shaman, Leilani.

On a glorious Athosian morning, Teyla traveled to the Stargate to welcome her visitors. She brought Reigha and Leilani with her. Together they would welcome their guests and escort them to the city. It would be a beautiful day.

The gate began to engage, chevrons locked and the telltale whoosh sounded.

OoOoOo

It was a familiar scene in the Atlantis Gateroom, a team leaving for off-world travel. This time it was booked as a stress free visit to an old friend. As the team stepped through the gate, Rodney made his way to the exit; he'd decided to drown his sorrows in a citrus free dessert before returning to his lab for one more late night. His plans were rudely interrupted.

"Doctor McKay!" Lieutenant Hanks exclaimed. "The wormhole."

OoOoOo

It was to have been a pleasant two day visit. It would be anything but.

Shortly after the wormhole formed at the Athosian gate, Teyla knew something was wrong. There were sparks coming from the gate itself and the surface of the event horizon was uneven from the start. Then all hell broke loose.

First it was Ronon propelled through the gate at an unnatural speed. The large Satedan was thrown through so forcefully that his momentum carried him clear of the five stone steps leading from the gate altogether. He landed ignominiously in a patch of briars, several feet from the gate, scrambling to his feet almost immediately.

Seconds behind Ronon came Sheppard and Carter. Their fate was much the same, though their trajectory appeared altered by their respective masses. Sheppard catapulted toward the final step where he promptly caught his right arm with a resounding crack. And Carter, well Sam caught the worst of it. Thrown directly down the five stone steps, she struck her head and sustained several lacerations in the course of her fall.

Seconds after Sam landed, lying face down and totally still, Ronon and Sheppard were at her side, joining the concerned Athosians. Leilani took her place as the available medical expert.

"How is she?" Sheppard asked as the Athosian completed a cursory exam of the still unconscious Colonel.

"Her signs are strong," Leilani said confidently. "Still she does not wake."

Teyla looked stricken herself. Her friends had come to see her and now Sam was injured, perhaps seriously. They needed to return to Atlantis, so she could receive proper medical attention.

"Ronon, dial it up," Sheppard ordered. "I'm sorry, Teyla," he added.

"I'm coming with you," Teyla said, surprising her companions. "I need to know Colonel Carter will be alright. I will return as soon as she awakens."

Then, without warning, the other shoe dropped. Sheppard, aware of the absence of gate activity turned abruptly to see what was keeping Ronon. The former Wraith runner stood directly behind him, his face grim.

"No one's going anywhere," Ronon said. "The Gate won't engage."

TBC

* * *

A/N: 1. Murphy's Law: "Whatever can go wrong will go wrong, and at the worst possible time, in the worst possible way".  
2. I couldn't resist one more spat of angst for our favorite couple. Please don't shoot me!  
3. Please review!!!! 


	58. Chapter 58 Beyond Belief

A/N: Okay, so you won't shoot me, here's a second chapter in under twenty-four hours. Pretty good, huh?

And thank you for all of your encouragement!

OoOoOo

_Last time: "No one's going anywhere," Ronon said. "The Gate won't engage."_

* * *

CHAPTER 58: BEYOND BELIEF 

"No!"

"Jack, please, go! I don't want you to die too. Go!"

"I'm not leaving you."

The intensity of their gaze was intoxicating. If only that would be enough!

He didn't know how to save her. He couldn't get to her. The force field was impenetrable. He'd tried to bring it down; he couldn't. Now he stood there staring into her eyes, willing whatever separated them to fall. But it wasn't working. And the clip- clop of Jaffa feet was coming closer. It wouldn't be long now.

"You can do it, Dad," a voice whispered. _Damn this wasn't the way he remembered it happening._

"You can get to her, Dad. You have to save her," the voice insisted. "Hurry."

There was no time. Three armed Jaffa rounded the corner. Sam turned briefly, seeing the fate that awaited her… them if she couldn't persuade Jack to leave.

When she turned back to meet Jack's eyes through the force field, his gaze was filled with love. Tears fell unfettered.

Then the staff weapon fired. Sam's wound was immediately fatal. Jack had no doubt of that. He heard his own scream, blending with hers as she fell. Without warning, the scene changed. Jaffa magically disappeared, the wall that separated them fell and Sam, still lying on the floor, opened her eyes and called his name.

"Sam …" he breathed.

OoOoOo

He'd gone to bed happy.

After a full day painting, housecleaning and mowing the lawn, Jack had gone to dinner with Christina Gilmore and Bobby Cramer. Then he'd come home and called it a day. He was looking forward to happy dreams, preferably of his beautiful blond wife.

When the call he was waiting for hadn't come, he didn't give it much thought. After all, his wife was in charge of a busy off world site where anything could get in the way of a call home. Dealing with those kinds of disappointments had become commonplace. If something were wrong, he'd be notified. Landry hadn't called. He had to assume all was well.

Now, after the nightmare, he wasn't so sure.

The memory of that fateful day on Apophis' ship was etched in his mind. He'd dreamt the dream often enough, but not like this and not for a long time. And never with Charlie's voice in the background, encouraging him to beat impossible odds. Something _was_ wrong. Sam was in trouble.

Jack sat up in bed, swinging his legs over the edge, raking his hands through his short, unruly hair. Without further ado, he reached for the bedside phone and dialed the SGC. He used his clout to demand immediate access to Landry and was patched through by a clearly intimidated airman.

"What's going on, Hank?"

A mildly perplexed Hank Landry replied, "I was getting ready to call you, Jack. We've lost contact with Atlantis."

"Lost contact? What the hell does that mean?"

Landry took a deep breath, reminding himself his good friend and ranking officer tended to become a bit irrational when his wife was in danger. "Their gate's down. No way of knowing how long. We tried to reach them this morning when they didn't check in. No response."

"What are we doing about it?"

"Not much we can do," Landry said. "Wait."

"Not good enough, Hank," Jack said flatly. "What about Daedelus?"

"You know as well as I do it's a three week one way trip," Landry said. "Hardly worth it if the gate's coming back up in a day or two."

"We don't know that," Jack countered even as he realized the other man was right. Being helpless was not Jack O'Neill's strong suit.

"I'm on my way Hank," he said finally. "We'll continue this discussion in a few hours."

OoOoOo

By Earth standards, Athos was primitive. It hadn't changed much since John Sheppard first set foot on the world a little over five years ago. Nomadic settlements of hunters, moving every few months in hopes of magically avoiding further Wraith attacks, speckled the landscape. And of course the local population religiously avoided what remained of the City of the Ancestors. After the debacle during his last visit, Sheppard was sure that particular destination was off limits for everyone, including visitors.

The Athosians lost many of their people during the culling that followed the Atlantis expedition's first visit. The newly awakened Wraith were angry; their rage fell on Athos and those who remained. Many Athosians fled to the caves, others to Atlantis itself. Those who wouldn't, or couldn't flee, perished.

The survivors were mindful of their all too recent history. They had no desire to tempt fate any further. The old city was off limits to everyone. The cultural and technical development of the planet stood still once more. Advances were confined to farming and cultivating what was fortunately fertile land, a major accomplishment given the nomadic nature of the Athosians. Other noticeable, even admirable, gains had transpired in the areas of medicine and philosophy.

Still, to the casual observer, Athos had little to offer. It was definitely not the place to be marooned when someone was seriously injured. Be that as it may, that's exactly the scenario that faced Teyla's visitors

OoOoOo.

Colonel Samantha Carter lay in the middle of a simple bed lined with fur and the skins of animals hunted by her Athosian hosts. She remained unconscious. Yet Leilani assured Teyla it wouldn't be long. The shaman had conducted a complete examination of her patient and made an unexpected discovery, something that would alter her treatment of this particular patient.

"Leilani, is she any better?" Teyla asked. She had left Sam briefly so the shaman could complete her examination undisturbed. Ronon had remained stationed just outside the medical tent for the duration, refusing to be moved.

"I believe your friend will awaken soon. She shows the signs," Leilani, an astute diagnostician, and Teyla's midwife, answered.

"What _aren't_ you telling me?" Teyla said. She realized Leilani was holding something back.

"Your friend is with child," the shaman answered flatly. "It is quite early, but true."

"But, she hasn't…" Teyla stopped remembering General O'Neill's visit just prior to her departure. Recalling Sam's statements about pregnancy, Teyla smiled softly.

"So she will welcome this child?"

"Yes, I believe she will," Teyla said.

"We must do all we can to preserve both lives," Leilani said. "The mother's injuries threaten the child's wellbeing. It will not be easy to save the small one."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Still deciding how involved I want to get with this piece of the story. How about you? Prefer more storytelling or is it time to wrap up? 

Please share your opinion and, of course, a review!


	59. Chapter 59 Making Repairs

A/N: Thanks for sharing your ideas about the story. Hearing from all of you was helpful and encouraging. Hope you enjoy the next chapters.

OoOoOo

"_We must do all we can to preserve both lives," Leilani said. "The mother's injuries threaten the child's wellbeing. It will not be easy to save the small one."_

OoOoOo

CHAPTER 59: MAKING REPAIRS

It was a long first night on Athos.

As an overcast morning dawned, an irritable John Sheppard shared a simple breakfast with Teyla's community. In part, John's agitation could be attributed to his broken arm. Then there was the lack of sleep and the worry. Along with Ronon and Teyla, he'd taken turns keeping vigil at Colonel Carter's bedside throughout the night and into the wee hours of the morning. During all that time, Sam had opened her eyes only briefly; she hadn't been lucid enough to talk with anyone. Her team was concerned to say the least.

The Atlantis commander was bruised and battered after her violent exit from the Gate. She'd been thrown down a series of five stone steps, likely feeling each and every one of them, probably cracking a rib or two in the process and definitely sustaining head trauma. And as if that wasn't enough, Teyla's shaman, Leilani, believed Sam was pregnant.

Teyla described Leilani as both a spiritual leader and a medical practitioner. She assured Sheppard that the woman possessed extraordinary healing abilities which would allow effective treatment of Sam's injuries. The women told him of medicinal herbs used for generations to prevent threatened miscarriages. Moreover they said they could manage Sam's head injury with similar herbs until she could be moved to Atlantis.

Sheppard had to admit Leilani had done a fair job setting his badly broken arm, now supported in an expertly crafted sling. Nevertheless, he was not one to blindly trust in things he couldn't completely understand. So he remained skeptical of Leilani's competence. How could the woman possibly know Sam was pregnant? How could some herbs and a practitioner without benefit of the scanners available on Atlantis deal with the consequences of Sam's injury? _I have to get her back to Atlantis where she can get _real_ medical care,_ Sheppard thought, _and I have to do it soon._

And Ronon? Well Ronon simply glared at most everyone, his suspicions of these strangers running rampant. What if one of them had sabotaged the gate in the first place? What else was waiting for them on Athos? Only his implicit trust of Teyla prevented him from violently demanding the answers to his questions.

OoOoOo

In the healing tent, it was Teyla's turn to sit with Sam. The somber grayness of the dark morning was broken only slightly by the single oil lamp in the corner of the tent. Yet even by that dim light, Teyla realized her friend was waking.

"Good morning," a hopeful Teyla said, as she watched Sam's eyes flutter open.

"Morning," came Sam's groggy, confused reply. Beginning to move around gingerly in the soft, fur-lined bed, Sam asked, "What happened?"

"There was a malfunction of the gate," Teyla explained. "You were all propelled through at an unnatural speed. You were the most severely injured."

Sam made to get up, meeting unexpected resistance in the form of Teyla's outstretched arm.

"Leilani says you must rest," Teyla said. "Besides, it is time for your medicine."

"Leilani? Medicine? For what?" Sam asked. Her words were halting as she struggled to voice her questions.

"Leilani is our shaman," Teyla explained patiently. "She accompanied me to welcome you. "You hit your head and have several other injuries as well. She is treating your injuries. She is also treating the little one."

"Little one? What?" Sam queried weakly.

"You didn't know?" Teyla asked.

Sam looked at her silently, too tired and confused to say anything aloud.

"You are with child, my friend."

Sam inhaled sharply, studying Teyla's sincere face. Her emotions flooded to the surface. The thrill of hearing the words she believed impossible quickly gave way to the worry of what might be wrong.

"I'm really pregnant?" Sam asked softly, not believing her ears. "How can she…?"

"She has special abilities, Sam," Teyla said with conviction. "Leilani knows about women and childbirth. She is able to divine certain things."

Then she noticed the cramping. Through the haze of medication and pain, Sam felt the first stirrings of panic.

"Why does it hurt? What's wrong?" Sam asked, still less than alert and struggling to make sense of everything.

Teyla looked at her intently, considering her next words. "Your injuries threaten the child's well-being. As I said Leilani is also treating the little one."

"And can she prevent a miscarriage?" Sam asked, realization dawning.

"If you mean the unwanted loss of this child, yes, I believe she can," the other pregnant woman replied. "I have seen her save troubled pregnancies many times."

Sam closed her eyes and nodded slightly, willing it to be so.

"I hope so," she said wistfully, her hand descending to gently cover her abdomen.

Teyla found herself smiling. "You truly want this child, do you not?"

"Oh yes, very much."

"Then rest now…"

Despite her fatigue Teyla saw Sam straining toward something just out of her reach.

"What is it?" Teyla asked.

"My pack, I need…"

"What, what is it you need?" Teyla enquired as she picked up the regulation backpack Sam had brought with her.

"Top pocket… Jack…" Sam muttered as she began to drift off again.

Following Sam's instructions, Teyla opened the outer pocket of the military pack. Inside she found a flat leather pouch resembling a wallet and inside, a few snapshots. Sure enough, the first was a small picture of General O'Neill. Teyla smiled and carefully pulled it out.

"Here it is, Sam," she said, placing the photo carefully in her friend's hand.

Sam breathed deeply, closed her fingers around this welcome reminder of her little one's father and closed her eyes once more.

OoOoOo

In Colorado Springs, an extremely worried Jack O'Neill had arrived at the SGC, ready for battle. Hank Landry was there to meet him when he arrived.

"Good news, Jack," Landry said. "We've received data bursts from Atlantis."

"And …?" Jack asked, clearly unimpressed by the progress that had been made.

"And … they're still unable to generate or receive a stable wormhole," Hank said patiently. "McKay's working on it."

"Any thoughts on how long repairs will take?"

"Dr. McKay's not sure what the problem is; he's running a full scale gate diagnostic."

"And that would be how long?" Jack persisted.

Landry quickly understood there was more going on here than he realized. His commanding officer was worried and frustrated. Though he and Jack were friends, it would have taken considerably longer for the military man to question his superior. As it was he was saved from having to do so. Daniel Jackson, just entering the conference room, did it for him.

"Jack, what's wrong?" Daniel asked. He'd overheard most of the increasingly heated interrogation Jack was conducting.

"Daniel," Jack said his voice taut. "Nice of you to join us."

"What's wrong?" the archeologist asked again, refusing to be distracted.

"I'll tell you what's wrong," Jack answered, becoming more agitated. "My wife's on an alien planet in another galaxy and the gate's down."

"They're safe, Jack," Hank said, deciding to re-engage in the conversation. "There's no reason to expect otherwise. We'll get the gate up and they'll come home."

"I can't explain it to you … either of you … but I know she's in trouble," Jack said. "I have to get out there."

Daniel knew better than to ask more questions. And General Landry took his cue from Daniel. And Jack, like or not, he knew all he could do was wait.

The next few hours were the worst sort of torture for Jack. It was the kind of torture that involved powerlessness and the inability to rescue someone in danger. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt his wife was in danger.

OoOoOo

A/N: I've decided on a middle of the road approach for the story. No new plot bunnies, our characters have enough to deal with as it is! However, I will bring the current plot line to a satisfying conclusion (likely no more than 4-5 chapters at most.). Then look forward to one or two fluffy epilogues!

Your continued thoughts and reviews are much appreciated!


	60. Chapter 60 Continuing Repairs

_The next few hours were the worst sort of torture for Jack. It was the kind of torture that involved powerlessness and the inability to rescue someone in danger. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt his wife was in danger._

* * *

CONTINUING REPAIRS 

By 0300 radio communications were re-established with Atlantis. No one had to look for General O'Neill in order to notify him. Jack made it a point to check in with the control room at least every fifteen minutes. Even Walter was about to lose patience with the man. Then again, he was _the_ man. That earned him some latitude.

The initial communication from Pegasus confirmed what Jack's already suspected: Sam and her team were effectively stranded on Athos. Along with that came the sobering news of Sam's head injury, information that fueled Jack's already burgeoning anxiety. Without further ado, the exhausted Major General took over, asking to speak directly with McKay. He wasn't taking no for an answer. He wanted to know what was preventing them from reaching the stranded team. And he wanted the information from the man with the best chance of fixing it.

"Alright, Dr. McKay, I need a clear explanation of the problem," Jack said. "What's going on … and no techno-babble, understand?"

"Yes, sir," Rodney said, slightly intimidated by the older man's command tone. "Well, you see there's significant subspace interference. It may have been caused by a meteorite storm we detected. Since the storm dissipated, interstellar magnetic flux seems to have overwhelmed our sensors and we're off-line. Simple enough?"

Jack glared. Rodney waited, suspecting life as he knew it was over. Instead, Jack closed his eyes, breathed deeply and reassessed the situation. Blowing the irritatingly arrogant genius away would not help bring Sam home any sooner. But a little intimidation never hurt.

"McKay, I want this gate up as soon as possible, do you understand?" Jack barked.

"Yes, General, but…"

"I don't want any buts … I want results."

Rodney hated to be told what to do, especially by people who didn't understand what he was talking about. That's why he'd done fairly well with Sam's command. At least she understood the scientific principles behind his work. Her husband, well he didn't have much appreciation for scientists as far as Rodney could tell … except for Sam of course. And now, now General O'Neill was speaking as a man concerned for his wife. Even Rodney appreciated that.

"I'll do my best, Sir," he answered simply.

"You do that," Jack said. "I'll check back in an hour."

OoOoOo

On Athos, another twenty-four hours had passed. Leilani was doing her best to reassure a restless John Sheppard and his paranoid Satedan friend. First she briefed them on Colonel Carter's condition, good news that helped settle them a bit. Then the ageless spiritual leader proceeded to assure the men they had nothing to fear from the peaceful Athosians. Both men had to admit Leilani was a soothing, peaceful presence, one that inspired confidence. Still, they refused to let down their guard on her say so alone.

Fortunately in the midst of Leilani's update, Sheppard received a welcome, but unexpected, communiqué from Atlantis. As Rodney assured him problems with the gate appeared unrelated to sabotage, the Lieutenant Colonel visibly relaxed. Even Ronon reluctantly laid down his weapon.

"That is much better," Leilani said. "Now that the two of you are at peace, I must see to your friend."

"You do that," Sheppard said. "And thank you."

OoOoOo

As Leilani entered the healing tent, she found Sam awake and talking with Teyla. Seeing Leilani, Teyla stood back and yielded her position at Sam's bedside. The revered shaman spent the next twenty minutes with Sam. The tent was filled once more with the aroma of incense and the gentle sound of Leilani's reassuring voice. Finally, she took her leave, beckoning Teyla to return to her friend.

"Leilani says you are much improved," Teyla said as she reached Sam's bedside once again.

Sam smiled. For the first time, she was sitting up in bed, supported by soft pillows. There was a light in her eyes that had been missing as recently as the day before.

"I feel better, Teyla," Sam said. "I think we're both going to make it." Sam's right hand moved to delicately stroke her abdomen, making it more than clear she was thinking of the small new life she carried. "Leilani told me communications are on line. How'd the chat with Atlantis go?"

"It seems they are still unable to establish a stable wormhole for travel back to the base. However, Rodney is hopeful that he can rectify the situation within a day or so," Teyla replied. "They are concerned about your injury."

"Sheppard didn't …"

"No, Sam. John did not reveal that you are with child," Teyla answered the unspoken question.

"Good," Sam replied. "I don't want Jack to hear from someone else. I want to tell him myself."

"I understand," Teyla said, almost wistfully.

Awake and alert now for the first time in nearly forty-eight hours, Sam couldn't help but notice the far away look in her friend's eyes.

"Teyla," she said. "What about your baby's father? Does he know?"

Teyla regarded Sam silently for several minutes. Envying the alien woman's connection with her own baby's father, Teyla felt moisture fill her eyes. As a warrior, she was ashamed. She had no use for tears, never had. But now, now even that control was slipping. So very much had changed, was still changing. It was time to respond, to give words to the struggle within.

"No, Reinor will never know of his son," Teyla said sadly.

"Reinor?"

"A good friend of many years, since before your people came to Atlantis," Teyla supplied. "I've known Reinor since I was small. We were raised together in this village. We played together as children. And we loved each other for as long as I can remember."

Sam regarded Teyla silently. It sounded like a fairy tale romance. So why had Teyla rejected this pregnancy so totally from the very start? Still knowing little, Sam simply listened, waiting to learn more of her friend's clearly complicated situation.

When Sam remained quiet, Teyla continued. "Reinor's family long ago arranged his betrothal to the daughter of a highly regarded Athosian tribe. None of us had a choice in the matter."

"An arranged marriage?"

"Yes, that is what your people would call it," Teyla said. "Of course, nothing could arrange our feelings, so we repressed them. I danced at his commitment day. And we said goodbye to each other."

"I can't imagine how difficult that must have been," Sam said.

Teyla caught Sam's eye and smiled softly. "On the contrary, Colonel Carter," she said, using the formal address purposefully, "I believe you know exactly how difficult it was."

There was a profound moment of understanding between the two women as Teyla's meaning sank in. Truth be told, the experiences of the two women were not all that different. Each had repressed their strongest feelings of love, devotion and desire for years. Sam had been blessed with a happy ending. Teyla, it seemed, had not been as fortunate.

"What happened?" Sam asked, anxious to hear the rest of the story.

"Reinor and Mara made their final commitment, marriage if you will, just before I left for Atlantis," Teyla began. "I chose to join your expedition for many reasons. Still, knowing it would take me away from the constant reminder Reinor was lost to me was an added incentive. Indeed I believed for years I'd been successful in putting him out of my mind."

Teyla paused, hanging her head slightly. Sam reached out to take her hand, encouraging her to continue.

"Ten months ago, I received word Mara had died in childbirth. Women seldom die in childbirth on Athos. Leilani does all she can to prevent such tragedies. As you have seen, she is uncommonly skilled. Yet that day, it was not to be. They tell me the entire village mourned. Reinor fled the village and remained alone for several days. He'd come to love Mara, as was only right. In many ways, he blamed himself for her death. He was inconsolable."

"And when you heard …" Sam prompted.

"It was right after you were recalled to Earth," Teyla supplied. "I requested leave to return to Athos for 'family time'. I found Reinor and did my best to console him. It was our first and last time together as lovers."

Again, Sam remained silent, unsure of what to say. She needn't have worried. Having revealed this much of her story, Teyla was not about to retreat. She simply summoned the courage required to voice the final words.

"The Wraith visited Athos shortly after I returned to Atlantis. Most of my people made it to the caves. Reinor did not."

Unbidden, Sam's hand came up to cover her mouth, smothering a tiny moan of misery.

She felt Teyla's loss as surely as if it were her own. It easily could have been. Now in the last days of her own pregnancy, Teyla confided her tragic story to a woman she believed would understand. Her tears flowed freely for the first time in months. Sam's heart went out to her, hoping to ease her sorrow and confusion.

"So your child is the son of someone you dearly loved," Sam observed as she recovered from her own emotion.

Teyla nodded, unable to verbalize a more fitting answer. Moments later, Sam's patience allowed her to continue.

"This child, my son, will have great difficulty living among his own people," Teyla finally said, anticipating Sam's next questions. "I love Athos and I dearly love my ancestors. Still there are times when the old beliefs punish those who are without blame. And they will punish my son. He will be outcast as a child born without commitment, now without a father. And I will be reminded forever of my failure."

"Your failure?" Sam asked, her voice reflecting her confusion.

"I knew better," Teyla said sadly, looking off into the distance. "I am not a young girl. I knew better than to risk this with Reinor. And yet here I am, causing pain not only to myself, but to this child."

Sam regarded her with compassion. "And _I_ didn't know better? Commanding a military base light years from home, I let myself become pregnant. In a situation where I'm responsible for over a hundred men and women in my command, I get pregnant, even though _I _know better. Teyla, condemning ourselves for our mistakes won't help anything. You and I both know that," Sam said. "We owe ourselves better. We owe our children better."

"Yes, we do," Teyla said, her heart lightening for the first time in months.

Still conscious of Leilani's proscription against unnecessary exertion, Sam stayed where she was and opened her arms to her friend. Teyla moved gracefully into her embrace.

Moments later Ronon and Sheppard entered the tent. They'd called in to announce themselves. When no reply was forthcoming, they walked in to find the two women in each other's arms. The sound of Teyla's weeping reached their ears almost immediately..

"What's wrong?" Ronon questioned in his flat, fearless tone.

There was no immediate verbal reply, only a calming look from Colonel Carter as if to say there was no need to be concerned.

"They're two pregnant women," John Sheppard quipped quietly in return. "There doesn't have to be anything wrong."

With that the two women pulled apart. Teyla stood up slowly and offered her male friends an indignant look. That was nothing compared to Sam's reaction.

"_This_ particular pregnant woman is still _your_ commanding officer, Colonel Sheppard," she reminded him.

"My apologies Ma'am," John snapped. "No disrespect intended. Everything is alright, yes?"

"Yes, it is John," Sam said in a more pleasant tone. She gazed briefly at Teyla. The Athosian nodded her agreement. "We're both fine. Now that you two are here was there something on your agenda besides insubordination?"

By now, both men knew Sam Carter O'Neill well enough to realize she wasn't actually angry. "Yes, Ma'am," John answered. "There's a perfectly good reason we barged in. Rodney's got the gate up."

"Really?" Sam said. "That was much faster than we expected."

"Yes," Sheppard said, wincing ever so slightly, "and knowing him, he'll never let us forget it. Anyway, Keller's coming with a med team to check you out. Then we're all going home."

TBC

* * *

A/N: Well I almost had myself crying in parts of this one. 

It's an unseasonable 80 degree day here and I wanted to get this posted before I go out to do some overdue fall cleanup. Hope you liked it.

Please review.


	61. Chapter 61 In His Eyes

"_Yes," Sheppard said, wincing ever so slightly, "and knowing him, he'll never let us forget it. Anyway, Keller's coming with a med team to check you out. Then we're all going home."_

* * *

IN HIS EYES

Back at the SGC, word the Gate was up set Jack O'Neill into action. And in the tight, relatively private confines of his office, General Landry found himself the voice of reason. At least he was trying to be.

"Jack, let me send that MALP through first to be sure everything is clear," Hank Landry suggested, doing his best to reason with his worried, sleep deprived friend.

"Damn it, Hank, I need to get there," Jack responded.

"A lot of good it'll do Sam if you're vaporized on the way," Hank persisted.

"Fine, send the damned MALP. Do it now," Jack said. He knew Hank was right. The professional soldier in him knew he was being unreasonable. But at this moment, he didn't care. He needed to get to Athos …and Sam.

On some level, Hank understood his friend's distress. Still it wouldn't do for the airmen to witness a Major General in less than total control.

"Alright," Landry said, assuming his best command tone. "Jack, I'll go down and tell them to dispatch the MALP. As soon as we have confirmation the bridge is functional, I'll call you. Until then, my office is yours … again."

Hank's unspoken message wasn't lost on his superior. Jack was being told in no uncertain terms to stay put and pull himself together. He was being told politely and with respect, but being told nonetheless. And Hank was right. As much as he hated to admit it, Hank was right.

An occasional outburst notwithstanding, Major General O'Neill was a man who seldom lost control, especially in public, especially in uniform. His life was ruled by duty and the need to control his emotions. But here he was, in uniform, having verbally badgered another officer in an attempt to get what he wanted. Against all good judgment, he'd tried to convince Hank to do away with the safety step of sending the MALP to confirm the bridge as well as the gate, was functioning properly. Fortunately Hank Landry had stood his ground.

Jack sighed deeply, pulled his hands through his already ruffled silver hair and sat down heavily in the chair that used to be his. _Thanks Hank_, he thought. _Thank you for saving me from myself._ As he sat back and closed his eyes, he felt his fatigue in full measure. All he wanted was to see Sam with his own eyes, to know she was going to be alright. It was all fine and good to hear reports from someone else, but given the dream he'd had the other night, it wasn't the same. Something was going on, something more than they were telling him. He didn't know how, but he knew.

If anything were to happen to Sam … he couldn't even complete the sentence. In his eyes, she was the best of his world, the one who made everything else worthwhile. He shook his head at the thought. Here he was the big bad, Special Ops trained, Air Force General with a chest full of medals and he was becoming a hopeless romantic. _Jeez!_

As luck would have it, Daniel chose that moment to make his entrance.

"Jack," he said, "General Landry says the MALP should reach Atlantis in five minutes. Then we have a go."

"We?"

"Yeah, as in you and me."

"Really? Okay," Jack answered dispassionately. So long as he was on his way ASAP, he couldn't care if an army of Super Soldiers were coming with him.

"You do know Atlantis sent word Sam's condition is stable?" Daniel asked, still sensing his friend's agitation.

"Daniel, I know what they said. But I'm telling you, something else is going on here. I can feel it."

"Intuition? Jack O'Neill?" A quizzical Daniel asked.

Jack's mood lightened slightly as he felt the familiar verbal sparring about to begin.

"I have my feminine side," he announced.

"Right…"

As soon as the MALP confirmed effective reconstruction of the intergalactic bridge, Jack was on his way, with Daniel by his side. It was only a day before his own scheduled departure and Daniel hoped he could be of some help to his distraught friend. If Sam was seriously injured, Jack would need someone to anchor him and Daniel wanted to be there. Both he and Teal'c had seen their friend at loose ends about Sam before. At times like this, it was best he wasn't alone.

OoOoOo

Thirty minutes later, in the Atlantis Gateroom …

"Incoming wormhole … from the SGC," a young lieutenant announced.

"Lower the shield, Lieutenant."

The MALP had arrived less than five minutes earlier, its arrival confirming the success of Rodney's speedy repair efforts. With it had come the announcement of their unexpected guests.

As Jack and Daniel cleared the event horizon, Rodney found himself breathing rapidly. He had to admit he was more than a bit intimidated by Colonel Carter's husband. _Well, O'Neill can't be too upset, now the gate's fixed_, he thought in an effort to calm himself.

"General, Dr. Jackson, welcome to Atlantis," Rodney said. With senior military officers off base, McKay was the senior staffer on duty.

"Status, McKay," Jack barked.

Rodney swallowed. He did his best to reply in an even tone.

"Dr. Keller just left with a med team to checkout Colonel Carter and the others."

"I'll be joining them. Dial it up, McKay."

"Yes, Sir," Rodney answered, smothering the automatic protest that came to his lips.

"Jack …" Daniel prompted.

"Thank you, Rodney," Jack said as an afterthought.

OoOoOo

Atlantis base radioed a heads up to John Sheppard as soon as the gate was open. Though Jack assured McKay he remembered how to find alien villages after exiting the gate, Sheppard met Jack and Daniel halfway to the village. Along with one of Keller's medical team, he escorted the newcomers the remainder of the way.

"How is she?" Jack asked, without preliminaries.

"Colonel Carter is fine, Sir," John answered. "Leilani says everything's fine."

"Who's Leilani?"

"The shaman, healer…"

"Oh, that's great," he said sarcastically. "And what's everything?"

"Well you know the Colonel hit her head and probably broke a rib or two on her way out of the gate," Sheppard stated matter-of-factly, determined to leave the news of the pregnancy for Sam to reveal. "Leilani says she's out of danger. Dr. Keller's here to confirm that assessment before we head out."

It was less than a mile's jaunt from the Gate to the Athosian village. Jack sprinted most of the way, daring the younger men to keep up with him. Within minutes, they reached the healing tent. Ronon was stationed at the entrance, remaining on alert. Though still on guard, he'd relaxed considerably over the past twelve hours, actually sitting down and holstering his weapon. It helped that his commander appeared to be recovering.

The Satedan stood as O'Neill and the others approached. As luck would have it, Dr. Keller emerged from the tent at that moment, having completed her examination.

"General O'Neill," Jennifer Keller acknowledged, standing at attention.

"Doctor, how is she?" Jack asked with as much formality as he could muster.

"She's stable, Sir. I believe she'll be fine," Keller said. "I'm bringing her back to Atlantis for more tests, but I don't anticipate any problems. Why don't you see for yourself?"

Jack nodded to Keller and entered the tent. There he found a surprisingly peaceful sight. Sam had been talking casually with Teyla and Leilani, as if they were the best of friends. Clearly she'd been told he was coming. She was in bed, but sitting up; she had good color and she looked extremely glad to see him. Jack was massively relieved, enough to manage a wan smile and an acknowledgement of his wife's companions.

"Jack, you remember Teyla," Sam said by way of introduction. "And this is Leilani. She's taken care of me these past few days."

Jack politely greeted each of the women in turn then made his way to Sam. As he did so, Leilani steered Teyla from the tent. "They need time," she whispered.

Even before their departure he was at her side. "Sam," he breathed, sitting inches from her on the edge of the bed. One hand stroked her face while the other took her hand, their fingers intertwining. And then she was in his arms.

"I'm glad you're here," Sam whispered against his chest. Then pulling back slightly to see his face, she asked, "But _why_ are you here?"

"As if I need a reason," he said. "You're hurt and I'm worried," he admitted.

As they pulled apart, both noticed the tent was empty..

"Hey, where'd they go?" Jack asked. "I wanted to thank the doctor, shoman …whatever."

"Her name is Leilani and she's a shaman," Sam said indulgently. "I think they're trying to give us some privacy."

"Much as I like that idea, right now, I need to know what's wrong," he said, looking around the suddenly empty space. "Keller says you're fine, but here you are in bed, with a stretcher ready to take you through the gate. What don't I know?"

"Well there is a little something I need to tell you," Sam said, her eyes sparkling.

Sam's glowing face calmed Jack's nerves a bit. Still he couldn't imagine what she was talking about. He looked at her blankly.

"When we came through the gate," Sam began, "I got banged up, head, ribs and a variety of other bumps and bruises. I was out of it for a day, concussion, I suppose. Leilani and Teyla took care of me. Leilani is the spiritual leader of the Athosians, and a healer. She was here when you first came in."

"Yeah, I know," Jack said impatiently.

"When I woke up," Sam continued. "It seems Leilani had done a very thorough examination. She told me something I didn't know."

"Sam…"

"We're having a baby," Sam said simply, holding both her husband's hands in her own

Clearly this was not what Jack was expecting. There were no quick come backs, no quips, in fact, no noticeable reaction at all, for what seemed an eternity. He simply stared at her, open mouthed. Slowly, oh so slowly, the corners of that mouth began to turn upward into a larger and broader grin. And then his eyes shifted. The dark brown orbs danced in delight as his hands came up to cradle Sam's face.

"A baby? Really? You're pregnant?" he asked, his hopeful voice reflecting his heartfelt reaction.

Sam's glorious smile was answer enough.

He hadn't a clue what else to say. So he kissed her.

Then, "That's wonderful. When…?"

"Independence Day, Jack," she said. "You remember, at least sometime during that week."

Jack smirked. Sam continued her story.

"Leilani saved both of us, me and the baby. I nearly miscarried."

"How can you be sure … you know… that everything's alright."

"I'm sure," Sam said. She took her husband's hand and placed it on her abdomen, leaving her own hand atop his. "But I understand what you're saying. In fact that's why Dr. Keller insists on transporting me this way. She wants to do some more formal examinations before declaring me totally out of the woods."

"Okay, I can handle that," Jack said, his hand still in hers.

"And remember," Sam added "in about seven months, this little person will be in our arms."

Jack felt the moisture pooling in his eyes and for the first time in his life understood the meaning of happy tears.

"I love you," he said simply. A father-to-be, Jack was still a man of few words. His eyes said it all. And now, gazing into his adoring eyes, Sam knew beyond a doubt she and their child were greatly loved.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Well only two more installments remaining. These will be epilog chapters with a good helping of fluff in each of them. I plan to tie up some loose ends for Sam and Jack as well as for little Charlie and his family. Please be sure to let me know if there are specific plot points you want me to be sure to address before the story ends and I'll do my best. 


	62. Chapter 62 A First Time for Everything

"_I love you," he said simply. A father-to-be, Jack was still a man of few words. His eyes said it all. And now, gazing into his adoring eyes, Sam knew beyond a doubt she and their child were greatly loved._

OoOoOo

EPILOG I: A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHING

_A/N: This chapter and epilog 2 which follows are dedicated to my wonderful reviewers and faithful readers, without whom I'd never have been motivated to devote so much time and energy to this story. You have made it so much fun! I hope all devoted SJ fans enjoy these final pieces._

_OoOoOo_

After Jack arrived on Athos, things moved quickly. His private reunion with Sam, beautiful as it was, lasted only a few moments. Then Sheppard interrupted, announcing all was in readiness for the return trip to Atlantis. Jack, in a much better mood since seeing Sam and learning of the pregnancy, craftily brokered a little extra time to thank Leilani for her help.

Leilani reminded him a bit of Lya, the Nox woman. Serious, other worldly, and of infinite goodness, she was someone he trusted almost immediately. That was saying a great deal for a military man the likes of O'Neill. With everyone packed up and ready to go, Leilani returned to the healing tent where she said her goodbyes and offered blessings to the expectant couple.

Her words would remain in their minds and hearts for long days to come.

"The two of you have been blessed with an extraordinary love," the wise woman said to the O'Neills. "Be careful to nurture it as you nurture the life that grows inside Samantha. There is nothing more precious. Cherish it."

Jack wanted to offer something to Leilani in return, thanking her for her help. But he couldn't think of anything that would do. So he said simply, "If you or your people ever need our help, don't hesitate."

Then with goodbyes to all, especially Teyla, the team returned to the Ancient city.

Once back in Atlantis, Sam was subject to more tests and scans, Keller intent on confirming not only the pregnancy, but Sam's general state of well being. Fortunately, Sam passed with flying colors. Except for two broken ribs which were wrapped to increase the speed of healing and limit discomfort, Sam was doing well. And she was about ten weeks pregnant. When Jennifer Keller confirmed the viability of the fetus, Sam was mightily relieved. She hadn't the heart to admit to Jack how concerned she'd still been. After all, she'd experienced the bleeding and cramping and feared the worst. But Leilani had been spot on. All was well.

By the time Sam made it back from her unexpected detour, there was less than one week remaining on her tour. Jack elected to stay for the duration, allowing them to return to Earth together at the appointed time. It was a bittersweet departure for Sam. She'd come to admire and care about many of her staff and knew she would miss them. But finding out about her pregnancy had quickly quieted any doubts she harbored about her decision. There was no way she'd postpone her homecoming after that piece of welcome news.

When she and Jack left Atlantis for Earth, they'd already begun to adjust to their new roles as expectant parents.

And they were ready to fulfill a promise they'd made to Daniel and Teal'c a long seven months ago.

OoOoOo

It would be a first. The first wedding held ten stories below ground in a top secret government facility. As such, the event was extraordinary. But for the main players in this drama, it was simply another day in extraordinary lives, lives they'd lived in anticipation of sharing this time with each other and with their friends.

Samantha Carter and Jack O'Neill had been married earlier, seven months earlier to be exact. In a private ceremony in snowy northern Minnesota, the two lovers had tied the knot away from prying eyes and immune from any distractions that might have threatened their happiness. It had been perfect for the time, a loving confirmation of the commitment in their hearts. That pledge, that promise of forever and always, helped carry them through Sam's final months in Atlantis, the difficult final days of their forced separation. That very private wedding capped their dream filled time at the cabin and began their lives as man and wife. Their only regret, even then, was that family and friends had not been with them to share their joy.

Today would be different. They'd known almost immediately their friends would clamor to be included, to be allowed an opportunity to celebrate with them. Almost immediately, they'd promised Daniel and Teal'c to make it up to them. Though they were at heart exceedingly private people, Jack and Sam wore public personas that couldn't be ignored. They were loved and appreciated by a wide range of people. Many of their friends knew about the Stargate program. Others didn't and would never have clearance. And others, equally important in their lives, would never be allowed beyond the confines of the SGC. These folks included what remained of Sam's family, a brother who'd been left out of much of her life, and many of the couples' friends, both human and alien.

The mountain was the obvious choice for location, one that could accommodate off world guests, those who wouldn't be allowed outside the facility. And so long as guests without government clearance got nowhere past, say level 16, there would be no access to classified materials. After all, everyone knew the Cheyenne Mountain facility existed. They just didn't know what went on there. Deep space radar telemetry was the going story, and despite conspiracy theorists always spinning interesting yarns about the truth, few were the wiser twelve years later.

Sure, certain precautions would have to be taken. All that aside, fully one month after Sam's return from Atlantis, all was in readiness for a relaxing, joyous celebration, Carter-O'Neill style.

OoOoOo

At the O'Neill home in Washington, D.C. things were in a state of flux. Sam had been "home" a month and was gradually making the place hers. She'd been touched by Jack's efforts to accommodate her aesthetic preferences with new colors and decorations before she arrived. Truth be told, none of it was all that important to Samantha Carter, now O'Neill. But the pictures he'd managed to rescue from boxes moved in and still unpacked after the cabin, well, that was different.

On the mantle directly over the fireplace sat two groupings of pictures. Included were a variety of family photos. Each grouping included pictures of Jack's family interspersed with Sam's as well as those of their new shared families, SG1 and the Atlantis expedition. Sitting next to pictures of Jack's parents and Charlie were pictures of Jacob, as well as Mark and his family. They were one family now, united by the marriage of two loving adults, well on the way to starting their own family.

"Jack, are you nearly packed?" Sam asked.

"Almost there," he answered.

"Transport's due in ten," she said.

"I can't find my socks," he whined.

"They're in your bottom drawer," she said patiently.

"Sam, how come you know this house better than I do?" Jack asked thoughtfully after a few moments.

"I'm more of a detail person?" Sam suggested, by way of an answer.

Having found the items in question, Jack snapped shut the final case and joined Sam in the living room.

"Ready," he said, smiling with satisfaction. "Hey, you're not done yet?" he asked teasingly, as she struggled to close the case in which she was packing his favorite BDUs."

"Funny," Sam said, rolling her eyes.

"I suppose I'd better lay off or you might decide not to marry me a second time," he quipped.

"No chance of that. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid," Sam replied.

"Good," he said emphatically. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

OoOoOo

Across town, a harried Christina Gilmore answered the door with a squirming bundle of one-year-old energy in her arms.

"Oh thank God you're here," she said, overjoyed to find Bobby Cramer at the door. "I need a hand."

"Almost ready, I hope," he said. "Plane leaves in an hour."

"Remind me," she said. "Why are we leaving for Colorado Springs at the crack of dawn?""

"Because our good friends are getting married?" Bobby answered. "You know, the guy who got us together and the lady he loves."

"I know," Christina said. "I'm just a little overwhelmed since I let Maria go. This Mommy role isn't easy."

"Maybe not, but I'd say you're doing a bang up job. This little guy looks great," he said, helpfully taking Charlie out of her arms.

"He does, doesn't he?" Christina admitted, smiling at Charlie. Now weighing in at a bouncing twenty pounds the little boy looked the picture of health. To see him today, no one would suspect the challenges of his young life. While realizing her own love and care had made a good deal of difference, Christina also recognized the strong supporting role Bobby Cramer and his family had played in Charlie's recovery and her own survival this past year. She'd fallen in love with this man for many reasons, his love of Charlie being one of many. The little boy had started to call Bobby "Daddy" and neither one of them had told him otherwise. It seemed like a good fit.

"I'll take the bags to the car," Bobby said. "I told the kids I'd call them when we got to the airport, so don't let me forget."

"They don't mind staying home?" Christina asked, ever mindful of the feelings of the Cramer children.

"Mind? Ah… no," Bobby said. "Let me see, play practice, soccer practice, SAT review sessions. I think if I made them come, I'd have a revolt on my hands. They're much better off with their grandparents for a couple of days. Jack and Sam will understand."

OoOoOo

Within forty-eight hours of Sam's departure, Teyla Emmagan herself had bid farewell to Athos.

Due to deliver at any moment, the courageous Athosian, only recently bonded to the life growing within her, had decided enough was enough. With the blessings of Leilani and of her lifelong mentor, Reigha, she chose to break with the bigoted, judgmental traditions of her people. She would not have her child subject to ostracism because of her actions. Moreover, seeing clearly at last, she refused to accept ignominious shame because of an act of love and compassion. Someday, perhaps, her people would be able to accept her and her child, but now was not that time.

With the able intercession of General O'Neill and Colonel Carter, Teyla received the IOA's permission to return to Atlantis. Once her son was delivered less than three days later, he also was allowed to remain as an "extraordinary resident."

Now, over three weeks later and assisted by her friends, the new mother prepared for the thirty minute trip to the SGC. In a totally out of character offer of assistance, Rodney McKay had offered to watch her three week old infant while she made last minute preparations, packing the equivalent of a diaper bag. Of course the somewhat narcissistic scientist had little idea what he was getting into until the tiny baby spit up all over him.

"Hey, I need some help here," Rodney called. His tone of voice was reminiscent of one being attacked by a Wraith and Teyla couldn't help but laugh.

"Rodney, I warned you to place something disposable over your shoulder for such an occurrence," the new mother said calmly, shaking her head. "Here, let me take him."

Rodney handed the baby back to his mother, shaking off as he did so. Somehow he thought this would magically clean up the baby spittle.

"You will still have to change your shirt before we depart," Teyla informed him, stifling a laugh.

John Sheppard chose that very moment to join his friends. "Okay, so glad I caught that little show McKay. Sure hope General O'Neill's better with kids than you are."

"I could use a little help here," Rodney said, "instead of laughter at my expense. I haven't seen _you_ trying to burp Sam."

Sheppard winced. He couldn't get used to the fact Teyla had named her son Samson, in honor of Colonel Carter. He remembered the day Teyla had asked him about male children named Sam in the "wisdom books of your world". With Ronon's help, they'd settled on Samson, a strong hero to his people whose mythical strength was somehow connected to his exceedingly long hair. Ronon had been proud.

"Maybe not, but _I've_ fed _and_ changed my godson without any problem," another voice added. Teyla turned around to find Ronon had joined them. "You do know they're waiting for us," he added.

"Yes, I am aware," Teyla said. "I will bring Samson to the med lab where he will be cared for until I return. Then I will join all of you in the gateroom."

OoOoOo

In San Diego, the Carter clan was on their way to the airport. Mark Carter and his wife, Kathryn, had packed up their two school aged children and headed off to see Auntie Sam marry a US Air Force General. Granted, after all these years, Mark still wasn't the biggest fan of the armed forces. But he had to admit both his father and his sister had seemed happy and fulfilled in their choice of careers.

And when it came to Jack O'Neill, Mark had no doubt he was the one for Sam. He'd met the man twice, once at his father's funeral and again just after Sam returned from Atlantis four weeks ago. The way Sam's face lit up when she looked at this man was enough to convince him she'd found her soul mate. He was happy for his sister; she'd waited long enough.

OoOoOo

By 1700 hours everyone had arrived. The requisite security sweeps had been completed.

And in the spacious reception hall on level ten, the wedding guests began to assemble.

One level down, the already married bride and groom casually made their way to the elevator.

"You sure you won't regret not having a fancy dress and all?" Jack asked, stopping the elevator to hear her answer. They'd both agreed on casual attire from the start, wanting this to be a relaxing gathering with colleagues and friends, not an event on the social calendar. But now Jack was worried. Maybe Sam had been humoring him when she'd agreed that everyone, including the happy couple, would wear BDUs.

"No regrets, as long as you're the man I'm marrying," she said, her sparkling eyes and broad smile a guarantee of her sincerity.

"What about the pictures?"

"What about them?"

"Years from now, when we're old and gray …"

Sam moved closer to him and pressed one finger gently to his lips, effectively silencing his worried speech.

"When we're old and gray, _many_ years from now, our kids will look at those pictures and see how happy we are, not what we're wearing," she said.

Jack looked at her appreciatively. "I knew I was married to the smartest woman in the universe." And with that, he started the elevator on its way. Casual or not, it wouldn't do to be late for their own wedding.

OoOoOo

The surroundings, décor and style of dress were anything but traditional. Simple arrangements of fresh fall flowers decorated the hall. And the guests, well they looked nondescript to say the least. A motley crew by anyone's standards, on first glance it was hard to tell them apart. Native born earthling, lowly airman, President of the United States of America, Satedan, Athosian, Jaffa, it was hard to tell them apart. Non SGC personnel were given BDUs specially reserved for them as they arrived and given a place to change.

Everyone, including President Montoya had been good sports about it. Of course they'd been warned of the non-traditional approach with their initial invitations. Jack and Sam knew everyone they included well enough to know it wouldn't present a problem. This way, they hoped no one, military or otherwise, would feel out of place. Moreover, off world guests would blend in more easily.

As a simple, no frills wedding march played, Jack and Sam entered the hall, arm in arm. Looking out over the assembled, smiling guests, Jack chuckled softly.

"What?" Sam whispered.

"They look good in BDUs, don't they?

Sam smiled, looking down at her own non-traditional wedding attire.

"I don't know about them, but you certainly do, General," she said.

Innately comfortable with each other and glad to see the hundred or so invited guests, the O'Neills made their way to the front of the hall and the base chaplain. A Presbyterian minister, Lieutenant Melissa Calahan was delighted to officiate at an event honoring  
two of the military's most decorated officers. She'd been a bit surprised by the informal tone of the celebration, but from what she knew of the two principles, especially General O'Neill, she realized she shouldn't be overly concerned.

Jack and Sam walked up to Reverend Calahan wearing relaxed smiles and waving to those who'd come to wish them well. Once they were in their places, the hall quieted, their witnesses, Daniel and Teal'c came up to join them, and the Reverend Calahan began.

"We are gathered here to witness the marriage of two people who have served this country tirelessly for many years. Each of you knows, in your own way, the depth of Jack and Sam's commitment to each other. It has been longstanding and has survived the tests of time and tragedy.

"Jack and Sam became husband and wife in a private ceremony this past March. Today they will publicly renew that commitment in front of all of us."

With that, Rev. Lt. Calahan stepped back, allowing Jack and Sam to face each other. Hand in hand they recited their vows so all could hear.

The words were those they'd spoken to each other only seven months ago. In that time, their feelings had deepened. As they spoke the words once more, Jack and Sam were conscious only of each other and the awesome reality of their love. The words they spoke again today had more than taken root in their lives. And for that they were truly grateful.

Once they'd finished speaking their vows, they heard the minister once more saying the words which announced their joining to the world, especially their friends.

Then they turned to a thunderous round of heartfelt applause.

OoOoOo

The reception had been orchestrated by Daniel, Teal'c and Christine. It had taken some effort to convince the still fashion conscious grandmother that the O'Neills wanted a casual, informal celebration. But once subjected to the combined charm of both a sweet hearted archeologist and an earnest Jaffa, she succumbed to the inevitable.

The result was a relaxing approximation of an indoor clam bake, with lots of food, brightly decorated picnic tables and lively music. Jack and Sam made their way from table to table greeting all of their guests warmly and ensuring that all were enjoying themselves. Sam spent time with Mark and his family, renewing family ties and promising to see each other at the upcoming holiday celebrations. The couple remained with the Carters for the meal then drifted off to visit with other guests.

When they reached the Atlantis contingent, Sam was gratified to see Elizabeth Weir had joined them. Dr. Weir would be returning with the senior staff later tonight to begin her new responsibilities as civilian consultant, complementing John Sheppard's role as military commander of the base. "Her" expedition was in good hands.

The party went on into the wee hours of the morning. As they'd suspected, one didn't need frills and formality to have a good time. Guest quarters had been prepared for those choosing to stay overnight and, of course, off world guests could depart without ever leaving the facility itself.

Once many of the guests, including Mark Carter and his family had retired or left for the evening, Jack and Sam settled in with the oldest of friends. With Daniel, Teal'c, Cassie and General Hammond, they visited for another hour or two, remembering all that had led up to this very special night.

TBC

* * *

A/N: Only fitting, an epic epilog for an epic story. Epilog 2 will most likely be equally long, a story in itself. What can I say?

Hope you liked it. (If you were disappointed by the lack of a formal second wedding, see Backstory, a tale I wrote last year that does feature a classical church wedding for Jack and Sam.)

Believe it or not, I still love reviews. So I'd love to hear from you.


	63. Chapter 63 Daddy's Delivery Service

EPILOG 1.5: DADDY'S DELIVERY SERVICE

After the threatened miscarriage on Athos, Sam was blessed with a healthy pregnancy.

The O'Neills learned they were having a girl fairly early on, thanks to the unintentional slip of one ultrasound technician. Though originally they'd both wanted to wait and be surprised, the advance knowledge only served to increase their excitement. With that important piece of information in hand, the proud parents-to-be picked out their child's name and set up a nursery to rival anything in the Milky Way or Pegasus Galaxies.

Daniel and Teal'c were among the many friends and well wishers helping the O'Neills prepare for the new arrival. All sorts of clothing, toys and baby furniture found their way to the expectant parents. At this rate, the precious child would never run out of frilly dresses, sleepers, bibs, sweaters, jumpers, etc. As much as they appreciated their friends' generosity, the influx of materials reminded Sam and Jack of why they'd eschewed wedding gifts in favor of donations to the Childhood Leukemia Foundation. It was a good thing there was lots of storage space in their house! They were going to need it, just for the little princess' wardrobe.

For the last month of her pregnancy Sam worked from home, remaining in contact with the SGC via high speed internet hookups as well as more esoteric methods of communication. She complained she was "humungous" and was starting to have difficulty staying on her feet as long as was needed at the SGC. Truth be told, Sam wanted to be closer to her husband as they waited for the birth. And Jack was delighted to have her at home where he could keep an eye on her.

By late March, they were in the home stretch. Sam's due date was still one week off, but the end was in sight. To Sam's way of thinking, it couldn't be soon enough. Sure, in some ways she loved being pregnant. Having Jack's child was a dream come true; the initial swell of amazement and gratitude she'd felt back on Athos hadn't faded. But the physical reality of late pregnancy, well that was another thing altogether.

For a woman who prided herself on independence and physical fitness, having the equivalent of a beach ball permanently stationed between her head and her toes was a sobering experience. In all honesty, it hadn't been that bad until the past week. But now, her balance was off, she was unable to pick up anything she dropped without superhuman effort and more humiliating than anything, it seemed she could never be more than twenty minutes from a bathroom.

In a charming attempt to raise Sam's spirits, Jack had discovered a small neighborhood theater currently showing classic movies, sort of the tail end of a "Winter Blahs" festival. It so happened that tonight the featured film was "Singing in the Rain", Sam's favorite. For tonight, it was Jack's favorite too; anything that could bring a smile to his uncomfortable wife's face at this stage of the game would be one of his favorite things for a long time to come.

Sure enough, the film was exactly what the doctor ordered. Sam hummed the well known music most of the way home. Jack even did his best Gene Kelly imitation, serenading his wife with the title song. He didn't mind Sam's good natured laughter at his less than soothing tenor voice. He was so glad to see her smile, he started laughing too. In fact, the two were so caught up in their revelry they were totally taken aback when the truck went into a sudden skid.

"What the hell?" Jack exclaimed as he regained control of the vehicle. Pulling over on the shoulder of the road, he turned to Sam. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Sam said, still feeling the blast of adrenaline that had started to course through her veins at the unexpected jolt. "Guess they weren't kidding when they said the roads might ice up tonight."

"Guess not," Jack replied. "That'll teach me to sing."

"Promise?" Sam said with a Jack-like smirk.

"That is so totally not fair," Jack said, continuing the teasing bickering that had become their nature. "You know I can't defend myself against a pregnant woman."

"Drive, you poor thing," Sam said, still chuckling. "And I'll try not to pick on you anymore."

"Yes, Ma'am," Jack said. And with a smile and gentle kiss, they were on their way again.

OoOoOo

It poured buckets of rain most of the way home. Jack could have sworn he heard lightning somewhere in the distance. This coupled with the near freezing temperatures and slick roads made both O'Neills very glad to walk in their front door around 2100 hours.

While Sam got ready for bed, Jack turned on the weather channel. Though he'd never say it to Sam, he was more than a bit worried about making it to the hospital on time when the moment of truth arrived. As he suspected, the forecast was nothing to write home about. Sleet, possibly a little late season snow and lots and lots of rain was predicted over the next forty-eight hours. It was going to get nasty out there. D.C. roadways were never a picnic, but this, this could be a nightmare.

So before turning in for the night, Jack did one more check of the truck. Full tank of gas, snow tires and chains, emergency supplies and one overnight bag – they were as ready as they could be. Now if Mother Nature would only cooperate, everything would be fine.

OoOoOo

At 0400 hours Sam O'Neill awoke to a persistently achy back and a generally queasy stomach. She'd had Braxton Hicks contractions most of the day yesterday and had fallen into an exhausted sleep when she returned from last night's outing. She couldn't understand being wide awake so early. Then again, she didn't understand a lot of what was happening to her body these days.

Gingerly pushing up to a sitting position -- no easy task given her current unwieldy shape – Sam slowly swung her legs over the side of the bed and got to her feet. She was careful to avoid waking Jack. She didn't reach for the lights; it was a full moon and the warm moonlight shone in the bedroom window as usual, spilling over the bed. As she stretched and rubbed her back, Sam stood silently at the bedside watching Jack sleep. _The poor man needs his rest,_ she thought. Lately, it seemed he spent every waking moment waiting on her. She was glad those days would be over soon; she hated feeling so helpless. She couldn't imagine how pregnant women with young children managed. _Probably relied on husbands like Jack_, she thought gratefully. In her heart, Sam suspected her Jack was one of a kind.

Jack treated her like a queen. Where a few years back that would have riled her feminist hackles, now she loved him for it. His good humor and loving disposition had made all the difference as her hormones ran rampant these last few weeks. Feeling big as an elephant, Jack's constant reassurances that she was beautiful, the thoughtful gifts, backrubs, kisses and flowers were just what the doctor ordered for her flagging self esteem.

If she could have managed it, Sam would have bent over to kiss him. As it was, more practical matters beckoned. _If I don't make it to the bathroom soon_ … she thought.

Starting towards the bathroom, she finally reached for the light switch. At first, when the lights failed to respond, Sam was too tired and preoccupied to care. _First things first_, she thought._ I think I know where I'm going._ _I'll worry about the lights later._

She made it to the bathroom in time, but just barely. That was getting old; it was definitely on her list of things to be avoided in pregnancy. Still, all in all, she'd really had little to complain about these past nine months. And as she padded her way back to bed Sam knew how fortunate she'd been. _Of course we could do without the power outage, _she thought, trying the light switch one more time.

Her irritation with the power outage was short lived. Only steps from the bath Sam's attention was diverted to an unexpected gush of water between her legs. Everything was very wet. _Oh no, _she thought_. My water broke … and all over the carpet … I don't believe it. Well if I could bend over I'd clean it up, but …_

Sam found herself chuckling at the absurdity of it all. And poor Jack, another job for her exhausted husband. Well, they said first labors progressed slowly, so it would probably be awhile. _Might as well let him sleep,_ she thought. _I'll get some dry clothes and hop back in bed for awhile. _

The brilliant astrophysicist was not at her best on this early spring morning. After all, there was the backache and the surprise she'd just had. Ignoring the obstetrician's admonition that she should call when her water broke, Sam climbed back into bed, hoping she could go back to sleep for a bit. Her rest was short lived. Within minutes, she was in shattering pain. _Now this is a contraction that means business_, she thought, as the pain wrapped around from her back to her abdomen. And without warning, Sam cried out abruptly.

Jack, never an exceptionally heavy sleeper, woke with a start.

"What's happening?" he asked, bolting up in bed. "Sam?"

By now, Sam had started breathing through the contraction. She held up her hand, signaling Jack to wait while she continued her process. After a cleansing breath, she smiled softly and announced, "I think I'm in labor."

"Are you sure?"

"Am I sure?" she said, in a tone that said it all. "Let's see, my water broke all over the carpet and I feel like I've been run over by an army of Jaffa. Yep, I'd say I'm in labor. Any questions?"

"Sorry," Jack said. Reaching over, he kissed her gently, then jumped up and started to pull on pants and a shirt. "I'll call Dr. Schafer and get the car ready," he said. "You okay to get dressed?"

"I'll make it," Sam answered.

"Good. Hey what's with the lights?" Jack asked as his attempts to switch on the bedside lamp were in vain.

"Don't know," Sam said. "They're not working."

Sam's simple answer to a question that involved electricity and technology was a sure sign she was in serious labor. Still pulling on clothes, Jack dialed Dr. Schafer's service. At least he tried. Halfway through the number he realized there was no dial tone. Nothing. Nada. _Great_, he thought, _power's out and the phone too. Okay that's what cell phones are for. _With that he tried again, using his cell. The voice that greeted him sounded harried.

"Doctors' answering service..."

"This is General Jack O'Neill. My wife's in labor. I need to speak with Dr. Schafer."

"I'm sorry General," the receptionist replied, "we've been unable to reach Dr. Schafer tonight. As you probably know phone lines are down and the doctor isn't answering his cell. My best advice is to bring your wife to emergency if you're able to do so safely."

With that she hung up, not waiting for a reply. Jack looked at the phone in disbelief. _How bad were things outside?_

"Jack?"

"We're going to the hospital," he said, skipping the rest of the news. _The less Sam has to worry about, the better, _he thought_. Might as well see what's really going on outside before we do anything else._

"Be right back, Sam. I'll go warm up the car."

With the help of a flashlight, Jack made his way to the garage. He could hear an unfamiliar cracking sound that seemed to be coming from outside the house. For the life of him, he couldn't place the sound. With considerable effort, he managed to open the garage door manually. Then he looked outside.

The sight in front of him was surreal. Tree limbs of all shapes and sizes littered the front lawn. Without benefit of street lights, the road was empty and silent save for the sound of shattering frozen wood. The cracking sounds he heard were branches breaking under the weight of ice. Fully encased in ice, the trees glimmered with the sheen of the still full moon. Enchanting as it was, Jack knew he and Sam were in trouble.

Then he stepped outside. Within a few steps, he promptly slipped and fell flat on his back. The driveway was a sheet of ice. And as he lay on his back pondering that indisputable fact he suspected the roads weren't in much better condition. Yep, they were in trouble.

"Oh for crying out loud!" Jack shouted, to no one in particular. "Of all days for Washington D.C. to have a freak ice storm!" Pulling himself to his feet and carefully making his way back into the garage, Jack started the car and turned on the radio. The news quickly went from bad to worse. According to the radio announcer on the local all news stations, there was a state of emergency in the Washington metropolitan area. Roads were closed and even essential services were hard to come by. The National Guard was being called in to help.

_Alright, enough of this_, Jack thought, shutting off the car engine. _Time for Plan B. _

Jack retraced his steps carefully and found his way back to the bedroom. Sam was still in bed, breathing heavily.

"How's it coming?" he asked.

"Contractions are coming every three minutes," she said. "I thought a first labor was supposed to go a lot more slowly than this."

"Sam we've got a little problem," he said.

"Besides the baby coming a lot faster than she's supposed to?"

Jack winced. He really didn't like where this was going. "I'm afraid so. We've got one heck of an ice storm on our hands. Roads are closed; we're not going anywhere in the truck."

"So, we stay here?" Sam said calmly, always the brave soldier, even now.

"No, now I call the office and get some help," Jack said. "Homeworld has provisions for emergency situations. I'll get someone to come out and get us to the hospital."

"Okay," she said, starting to breathe her way through another contraction. Sam smiled weakly at Jack as he rubbed her back with one hand and dialed his cell with another.

If the Director of Homeworld Security thought he and his wife would be receiving any special treatment tonight, he was sorely disappointed. Though Sam could only hear one end of the conversation, she knew Jack wasn't getting what he wanted. The tension of his muscles and the tightness of his jaw belied his professional tone of voice.

Finally the conversation ended.

"Looks like we're on our own," Jack said.

"What's going on?"

"Requested emergency evacuation," Jack said. "That idiot told me women have been having babies at home for years."

"He _is_ right, you know," Sam said.

"I know," Jack said. "And resources right now are at a premium. They'll get to us as soon as they can, but for now, the best thing to do is hang tight."

"Wouldn't want to be delivering our little girl in the truck, now would we?" Sam asked rhetorically.

"Not a good idea, stranded somewhere in the middle of this," Jack admitted.

Jack was determined to present a strong, confident front to his wife. Clearly, the contractions were coming with increasing intensity and frequency. Even between contractions she hadn't managed to get dressed or even get out of bed. This wasn't going to take very long. He needed to get ready. _It isn't like this is the first time you've delivered a baby, O'Neill,_ Jack told himself. _And you've done it in situations a lot less hospitable than this. So settle down and get to business._

"We're going to need light and heat," Jack thought out loud.

"Remember the cabinet in the back room? It's filled with those candles you keep laughing about," Sam said.

"Yeah, the Kel'no'reem candles," Jack said as his mind raced. "That'll take care of the light. But the temperature's dropping in here, its freezing. Let's get you out to the living room. I'll set it all up, start a fire, we've got lots of wood. You and the baby will be nice and warm. Come on," he said, gently helping Sam to her feet and leading her the short distance into the next room. Within minutes Jack had a fire started and had set up the sofa as a comfortable bed/delivery table.

"Okay," he said once Sam was settled, "I'm off to get the candles. I'm gonna need a little more light on the subject," he quipped.

"Funny."

"Thought so," he said with a smirk.

Moments later Jack returned with candles which he spread around the living room and began to light. Hopefully, the soothing candlelight would help to calm Sam. She could use it, he thought. It was so hard for him to see her in so much pain. In spite of his good sense, Jack couldn't help but wonder if she blamed him for the pain that racked her body right now. Heck, he blamed him. _Dear God_, he thought, _I know we can do this, but if there's any problem …please don't let anything go wrong._

Once the candles were in place, Jack gathered clean towels and the fluffy baby blankets their friends had given them. He placed several in front of the fire to warm them. Then he set about sterilizing a pair of scissors and getting a bowl of clean water ready.

Finally he returned to Sam's side. She was drenched with sweat despite the chill in the room.

"Stay with me, please," she said.

"I'm not going anywhere, Sam. I'm right here," he answered.

For another twenty minutes Jack sat by her side as she navigated the increasingly intense contractions. Then something changed.

"I think I have to push," she said. "It's so soon, but I know the baby's coming."

Sure enough, taking his position as honorary obstetrician, Jack could see the baby's head was crowning.

"Alright, Sam," he said. "Remember, push with the contraction."

"Okay," she answered breathlessly as the next wave hit.

"Push, come on, that's it," he encouraged.

And she did, the effort seeming to exhaust her.

"Now breathe, relax and get your strength for the next one," Jack said. "You okay?"

"Still here," she breathed, her hands fisted in the blankets he'd lain over the rough fabric of the sofa.

"You're doing great. I can see her head, Sam."

"Here we go."

Sam pushed through the next contraction, screaming for all she was worth.

"Our daughter's almost here," Jack said. "You can do it, come on!"

Sam pushed, groaning loudly once more with the effort. As she did, a tiny, perfectly formed head emerged smoothly into her father's waiting hands. The rest, as Jack would say, was "a piece of cake" (though Sam might have described it differently if given a chance). The baby's shoulders followed with little more effort and before he knew it, Jack O'Neill was holding his brand new baby girl in his hands. She was so tiny, and, for a moment, fearfully still.

While Sam pushed herself up to see what was happening, Jack lifted the still silent infant over his head. With the movement, she took her first breath and began to cry. It was the sweetest sound these new parents would ever hear.

"Jack?"

Before Sam could say another word, Jack was at her side, holding their squalling newborn.

"Not to worry," he said. "She's perfect, just like her mother."

Sam smiled. She watched Jack gently bathe and dry the wet, sticky, totally adorable little baby. And she smiled. Baby Leilani cried at the top of her lungs throughout the procedure. Then Jack wrapped her in a warm blanket and placed her securely in Sam's arms. Sam and Leilani looked at each other for a moment before the tiny girl drifted off to sleep at her mother's breast.

OoOoOo

After skillfully cutting and tying off the umbilical cord, Jack did his best to make Sam comfortable. Holding Sam as she drifted off to sleep with their little girl, Jack's heart swelled with love for his wife and daughter. Here they were in the midst of nature's fury, as always, safe and sound in each other's hands. All was right with the world.

TBC

OoOoOo

A/N: Okay, so I couldn't resist the temptation to write one more Jack/Sam "adventure" into this story.

I know this chapter wasn't as fluffy as promised, so … one more to really wrap things up. Stay tuned.

In the meantime, I'd love to know what you think of Jack and Sam's latest "adventure". Please review!


	64. Chapter 64 Finale

FINALE

One week after Leilani Charlene O'Neill was born, Jack retired, again.

The decision had been a long time coming. It signaled the end of an era, a time of dedicated, heroic self sacrifice for the greater good. Retirement would allow Jack O'Neill to be a full-time father, a dream he'd cherished for a long while. And Sam, well she'd finally come to know the security of having a family of her own.

Sam and Jack had discussed their options during the months prior to Leilani's birth. Once their little bundle of joy arrived, the choice was clear. They couldn't imagine having this precious child raised by strangers. At this time in their lives, the O'Neills were fortunate enough to have choices; it was no longer necessary for both of them to work full time. Yes, their employers wanted them, but it wasn't necessary. Yes, they were still interested, ambitious, curious and committed, but it didn't mean they needed to continue to risk their lives.

During the eight weeks it took to finalize Jack's retirement, the O'Neills bonded with Leilani and worked out the details of their immediate future. Their plans included Sam working limited hours in the labs at Stargate Command, while Jack remained on call as a civilian consultant. The agreement with the Air Force specified at least one parent would be available to their daughter at any given time.

With Sam returning to the SGC, staying in Washington was out of the question. By mid April, the O'Neills had secured a home on the outskirts of Colorado Springs. They'd commissioned renovations on the fifty-year-old building, personalized touches that included a special nursery, skylights and fireplaces. Now, in late June, they were ready to make the move.

One of the best things about being back in the Springs would be closeness to their oldest, dearest friends. Two of those friends were with them today, helping them pack. Daniel and Teal'c had arrived yesterday and stayed overnight, ostensibly to be around for early morning packing. But Jack knew they'd really come early to have more time to fuss over little Leilani.

The tiny three-month-old had been a delight from day one. Her besotted parents believed her the cutest, smartest child ever born. And their friends had encouraged them in that belief. But today, she was sharing the spotlight with another sweet and much loved child, Charles Jonathan Gilmore. Charlie had come along with Bobby and Christina to help with the final round of packing.

"O'Neill, where do I pack the MacGyver VHS collection?" Teal'c asked in the midst of the thinly disguised chaos that was now the O'Neill household.

"Right next to the Simpson DVDs," Jack replied. "There should be space if you squeeze them in, nice and tight."

Across the room, Sam rolled her eyes at Christina. She'd learned that Jack's idea of packing left a lot to be desired. In fact both women were learning a great deal about their respective partners during this little exercise. All in all, what they learned only strengthened their feelings for the men. After all, the ability to pack a neat moving crate wasn't everything.

"Ouch! Damn it!" The outburst came from one of Leilani's godfather's, Daniel Jackson. It was accompanied by a loud crash, clearly indicative of broken dishware. Turning around, Sam saw that two packing crates had bitten the dust, their shattered contents strewn over the kitchen floor.

"Are you okay, Daniel?" Sam asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah," Daniel replied. "But that's more than I can say for the dishes in that box. Sorry." Even at his now mature age of forty-something, Daniel managed to get that innocent, sheepish little boy look whenever he was in trouble. And he was still adorable, as witnessed by the bevy of beauties he continued to date.

"Don't worry about it, Danny-boy," Jack called in from the next room. "Should've seen me and Bobby yesterday. I'd say we broke our share." Then deciding to tease his wife yet again, he added, "We decided it would give Sam and Christina a good excuse to go shopping."

"Jack!" Sam exclaimed, while Christina stood off to the side chuckling.

"I'm staying out of this," Christina said, bending over to pick up little Charlie. "But I would suggest we all break for lunch before every place setting in the house is gone."

"There's always paper plates," Jack replied.

By now, everyone was laughing, even Sam. Christina was right. They were all tired and getting a bit accident prone; it was time for a break. As if to emphasize that point, Leilani started to cry, adding her little voice to the crowd demanding a lunch break.

"Alright," Jack said, "I'd say that's the final lunch bell."

"He'll never be able to say 'no' to her," Sam whispered to Christina. Of course Sam was right. Leilani had her father wrapped around her little finger from the moment of her birth. But that wasn't a bad thing. In fact, Sam wouldn't have it any other way. And as she watched Jack make his way to the nursery and Leilani, she flashed back to their daughter's birth. What could have been a nightmare had ended a pleasant dream come true. An uncomplicated home birth attended by the love of her life.

Though her husband wasn't the best packer or the neatest housekeeper, some of his packing had been done in a careful, precise fashion. Jack knew what was really important. One box Jack had insisted on packing himself contained pictures of Leilani's birth or at the least the immediate aftermath. The framed photos had graced the mantle these past few months; now they were packed snugly, wrapped in the freshly laundered baby blankets that had been used that day.

Sam remembered how, on the day of Leilani's birth, the rescue team Jack requested arrived three hours after the fact. By the time they knocked on the front door, Leilani had been fed twice and both she and Sam were fast asleep. Jack had found his camera and taken a few choice candlelit shots of mother and baby, reveling in Sam's glorious smile, something that shone brightly in spite of her exhaustion. And when the medics arrived to find all was well, he'd made sure one of them had taken two or three pictures of him and his daughter and then of the little family all together. When that was done, Jack had accompanied Sam and Leilani to the nearest hospital for the requisite postpartum exam.

"Lunch is ready, everyone," Christina announced, breaking Sam's reverie.

"That was quick," Bobby responded, putting down what he was working on and going to wash up at the kitchen sink.

"Meat trays, fresh breads, fruit, all ordered ahead," Bobby's fiancée replied. "I've learned to be prepared."

"That you have," Bobby said with a smile. Hands clean, he offered, "Anything I can do to help?"

His offer went ignored as Jack made his entrance with the baby.

"I see you took the paper plate suggestion," Jack observed, walking in, carrying Leilani in his arms.

"Only thing I could find," Christina replied. "You and the boys have packed or broken everything else." Christina flashed Sam a conspiratorial look. Sam shook her head and smiled. She gently took Leilani from Jack and began to nurse the delighted baby. At the same time, the men took their seats and began making sandwiches while Christina prepared appropriate finger foods for Charlie, now happily seated at the table on Bobby's lap.

"Never thought I'd see such a domestic scene at Jack's house," Daniel proclaimed, looking pointedly at Teal'c, a man now boasting a new family of his own.

"I have never placed anything beyond O'Neill's capabilities," Teal'c replied.

"I appreciate that, T.," Jack said. "At least one of my old friends had faith in me."

"Come on Jack," Bobby teased. "You've got to admit, this was a long time coming. Not to mention, the best kept secret."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Daniel ventured. "I think half the mountain had bets on when these two would get together. Then, holding up his hand to ward off Sam's laser gaze, he added, "Hey, I'm just saying."

"Okay, guys," Sam said. "Enough is enough. Jack and I are just where we're supposed to be right now. That's all that matters. Besides what about the new lovebirds," she asked, deftly shifting the focus to the newly engaged Bobby and Christina.

"Indeed," Teal'c said, continuing to fill his plate with meats and helpings of fruit, "Bobby Cramer and Christina Gilmore appear to be a well matched couple."

"Thank you, Teal'c," Bobby said. "We're lucky too," he said, reaching across the table to take Christina's hand. "We found each other because of Jack and this little guy on my lap." As if on cue little Charlie reached up to Bobby, ready to feed him a piece of sandwich. When the Washington lawyer didn't respond to the toddler, the little guy reached up to open the man's mouth and proceeded to stuff the food in. Bobby was caught between laughing and choking.

"Okay, Charlie," he said. "I think _I'm_ supposed to be feeding _you_."

"No, Dada," Charlie said, starting to giggle. Then loosing interest, the soon to be two- year-old climbed off Bobby's lap and walked over to Sam.

Leaning in to see the baby, Charlie announced proudly, "Me feed Leilei."

Sam chuckled. "Pretty soon, Charlie, I'll bet you can do that," Sam said. "But right now Leilani is still very little. All she eats is Mommy's milk."

Charlie held his ground, continuing to look at the smiling baby in Sam's arms.

"Okay," Charlie said, finding his way back to Christina. Then with childlike innocence he asked. "Me drink Mommy's milk?"

Innocent questions of an innocent child, Christina was getting used to them. Sure they brought Jessica to mind, but now they brought pleasant memories.

"You did, Charlie," she answered. "But now you're a big boy and big boys eat sandwiches.

"'kay, Mommy," he said, hopping on her lap and taking his first sandwich square.

Christina looked up to see several sets of eyes upon her. Her friends were smiling. She'd come a long way from the elegant model, so uncomfortable with the responsibilities of motherhood.

They'd all made important transitions over the past year. Life went on, each of them growing and changing as was meant to happen. And for Jack and Sam in particular, each day had become a dear and precious thing. Each morning brought a new opportunity to live their lives together, to love each other and their little girl. And in the end that was what mattered more than anything. Friends, family, love … after all, that's why they'd saved the earth so many times, why freedom was so precious.

With that knowledge they walked freely into the next stage of their lives, ready to appreciate each and every day that would come their way.

The End

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A/N: Sooner or later, all things must come to an end. This story is no different. So there it is. I'm hoping it was a satisfying ending for you.

Once more, my sincere thanks to all the readers and reviewers who stuck with this story over the past **five** months, through all the plot twists, new characters and this writer's shifting moods. And welcome to everyone who's recently joined in. Your reviews have been so helpful, certainly making the time and energy devoted to writing more than worthwhile.

In days to come, I'm hoping to post some **short** stories. No more novel sized pieces like this, at least for awhile!


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